The village blacksmith; a memoir of the life of Samuel Hick

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6

THE

VILLAGE BLACKSMITH;^

a riDemoir

LIFE OF SAMUEL HICK, ^

Of Micklefield, Yorkshire,

By JAMES EVERETT.

V '^ ilonbon:
2) CHARLES H. KELLY, 2, CASTLE STREET, CITY RD., E.C.;

AND 66, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C.

HA.TMAN, CHRISTY AND LILLT, T.TD,,

PEIJfTERS,

HAITOK WORKS, 113, FABRIXGDOX ROAD,

AND 20, 22, ST. BRIDE ST., B.C.

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

BY PROFESSOR LONGFELLOW.

U.vDER a spreading chestnut tree

The village smithy stands ;
The smith a mighty man is he,

With largo and sinewy hands,
And the muscles of his hrawny anus

Are strong as iron bands.

His hair is crisp, and black, aj)d lonj?,

His face is like the tan ;
His brow is wet with honest sweat.

He earns whate'er he can,
And looks the whole world in the face.

For he owes not any man.

Week out, week in, from mom till night,
You can hear his bellows blow ;

Vou can hear him swing his heavy sledge
With measured beat and slow,

Like sexton ringing the old kirk chimes
When the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school

Look in at the open door :
They love to see the flaming forge.

And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly

Like chaff from the threshing-floor.

rio goes on Sunday to the church,

And sits among the boys ;
He hears the parson pray and preach.

He hears his daughter's voice.
Singing in the village choir,

And it makes his heart rejoice.

THB VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

It sounds to him like her mother's ▼oic«,

Singing in Paradise !
He needs must think of her once more.

How in her grave she lies,
And with his hard rough hand he wipee

A tear from out his eyes.

Toiling, Rejoicing, Sorrowing,

Onward through hfe he goes ;
Each morning sees some ta.sk boErun,

Each evening sees its close,
Something attempted, something done,

Has earned a night's repose.

Thanks — thanks to thee, my worthy friond.

For the lesson thou hast taught !
Thus at the sounding forge of life

Our fortune-: must be wrought, —
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped

£ach burning deed and thought.

TUB

VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

CHAPTER L

His birth— Parentage— liears John Nelson— disturbance during street-preaching- -is
bound apprentice to a blacksmith — his conduct — attends a lovefeast — becomes the
subject of divine impressions — hears Thomas Peace — visits York — scenes of riot —
hears Richard Burdsall — his conduct towards a persecuting clergyman — his heart
increasingly softened— conviction — Mr. Wesley — the good effects of that venerable
man's ministry.

Samuel Hick, the subject of tlie present memoir, was in the moral
world, what some of the precious stones are in the mineral kingdom,
a portion of which lie scattered along the eastern coast of the island,
and particularly of Yorkshire, his own county; — a man that might
have escaped the notice of a multitude of watering-place visitors,
like the pebbles immediately under their eye ; — one who, to pursue
the simile, was likely to be picked up only by the curious, in actual
pursuit of such specimens ; and thus — though slighted and trodden
under-foot, like the encrusted gem, by persons of opposite taste — to
be preserved from being for ever buried in the dust, as a thing of
nought in the sand, after the opportunities of knowing his real value,
when above the surface, had been permitted to pass unobserved and
unimproved; — one of those characters, in short, that could only be
discovered when sought after, or forced upon the senses by his own
personal appearance, in the peculiarities by which lie was distin-
guished— who was ever secure of his price when found — but would,
nevertheless, be placed by a virtuoso, rather among the more curious
and singularly formed — than among the richer and rarer specimen.^
in his collection.

He was born at Aberford, September 20th, 1758, and was one of

B

2 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

thirteen children, that had to be reared by the " hand luhourr to
employ nn expression of his own, of poor, but industrious parenLa.
Through the hmitcd means of the family, his education was neces-
sarily very oircumscriljcd, being chiefly confiucd to his letters, in
tKeir knowledge? and formation, without advancijig to figures : and
even these — such was the blank of being which he experienced for
several years afterwards — appear to have been cither totally forgotten,
or so imperfectly known, as to induce inability to read and write,
when he reached the age of manhood. This led him, in after life,
when Sunday School instruction dawned upon the world, as? the
morning of a brighter day, to contemplate the times with peculiar
interest, and to wish that he had been favoured with the privileges in
his younger years, which he lived to promote, and to see enjoyed by
others. The dream of childhood seemed to pass away, with all its
dangers, its " insect cares," and its joys, without leaving a single
trace of any interest upon his memory, till he reached the seventh year
of his age ; and one of the first of his reminiscences, when sitting down
at a kind of halting-post, towards the close of his journey, to look
back on all the tvay which the Lord God had led him in the wildei-ness,
was just such an occurrence, as a mind imbued with divine grace
might be supposed to advert to,— -anxious only to fix on favourable
spots, where God is seen in his ministers, his providence, and hia
people.

Field and street-preaching had neither lost its novelty through
age, nor was it rendered unnecessary by a multiplicity of commodious
chapels : while the want of a suitable place, therefore, led a "Wesleyan
itinerant preacher to take his stand on the market cross, to proclaim,
as the herald of the Saviour, the glad tidings of salvation, the inha-
bitants of Aberford were allured to the ground, in order to listen to
his message. Little Samuel mingled with the crowd — gazed with a
degree of vacancy on the scene — heard, but understood not. John
Nelson was the preacher — a man whose life was full of incident and
interest — who discovered no less prowess in the cause of God, than
his namesake, Nelson, did upon the element for wh'xh he seemed (o
be called into existence — and who stood, for the fame acquired, in a
somewhat similar relation to Methodism, that the hero of the Nile did
to the British nation. In the course of the service, a person, prepared
for the work by intoxication, having had three quarts of ulo given
him by three Roman Catholics, who urged him to the onset, made
considerable disturbance. The people were annoyed, and the preacher
was thwarted in his purpose. The man exhibited in his hand a piece
ot paper, from which he either read, or pretended to read; and being
possessed of a powerful voice, he elovated it in true atentonan style,
and by force of lungs rendered the feebler v<Mce of the preacher

THE Vn^LAGE BLACKSMITn. 3

inaudible. A chain of circumstances contributed to preserve the
ease alive in Samuel's recollection. The man was personally known
to him — he continued to reside in the neighbourhood — afterwards lost
his sight — was supported by begging from door to door — solicited
alms from Samuel himself, when the latter had become a householder
— was reminded of the circumstance by him, and was either hypo-
critical or honest enough to confess his belief that it was a judgment
from God — expressed his sorrow — and finished his course in a work-
house. The uses and improvements which Samuel made of circum-
stances even the most trivial, were invariably devotional, and often
pertinent. From an occurrence like the present, he would, in stating
it, exclaim, "Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not go un-
puni:<hed ; " then, with his usual quickness, his eyes sparkling, and
beaming with a fine glow of grateful feeling, he would advert to the
diSerence between earlier and more modern times, exulting in the
quiet which reigned around, every man bemg permitted, in patriarchal
simplicity, to sit and to shelter himself " under his vine and under
his figtrce," the hand of persecution not being raised " to make hina
afraid."

His attention having been once drawn to the subject of religion,
by the peculiarities of Methodism, it was soon re-awakened by the
return of the preachers, whose visits, from the comparatively small
number of labourers employed, were more like the return of the
seasons, setting in, earlier or later, and at wider distances than the
regular succession of week after week, or month after month. This
irregularity, occasioned by calls to new fields of usefulness, rendered
their visits, like the return of spring, the more welcome to religious
persons, and preserved on the face of the whole an air of novelty,
among the profane, which frequent repetition, by producing fami-
liarity, might have destroyed. Whoever might have been the
ministers, whether in or out of the Established Church, that he
heard ; and whatever might have been the impressions received, not
anything of personal importance is recorded, till the lapse of a second
seven years, when, at the age of foui'teen, he was bound apprentice
to Edward Derby, of Healaugh, near Tadcaster, to learn the trade of
a blacksmith. Here he appears to have been placed in a situation
tavourable, in some respects, for religious improvement ; and in three
sentences, the full power of which — when tried upon the mind of
another person— he scarcely understood, he has struck oflT a sketch
of his own conduct while filling the situation. He states, that he had
a "comfortable time" — that "the Lord gave" him "favour in the
eyes of the people " — and that he *' never troubled " his " parents for
OTiything during" his "apprenticeship." We have in this — in the
wny of implication at least — his character as a servant, & neighbour,

!■ THE Vn.LAGE BLACKSMITH.

und Sk cliild ; for had he not been diligent and faWifid as a servant,
Ifnd and ohlir/inj as a neighbour, tender and thoughtful as a child,
Ihere is not anything to induce us to believe, that he could either
have been comfortable in his service, participated in the favour of
those around him, or that his parents could have been exempt from
trotthle, owing to demands made both upon their pockets and their
patience.

He had not been long in his situation, before curiosity led him tc
a lovefeast, which was held in a barn, at Healaugh. A good man, of
the same trade with himself, was the door-keeper; and either through
a kindly feeling on that account, or from his having perceived some-
thing in Samuel's general demeanour which excited his hope, he
permitted him to pass, and ordered him to mount the straw, which
was piled up in a part of the building, in order to make room for the
people. It was not long before the door-keeper left his post, and
advancing towards the body of the congregation, commenced the
service. He remarked, in figurative language, when describing the
influence of the Spirit of God upon his heart, that " the fire was
burning," and that he " felt it begin at the door." So gross were the
conceptions of Samuel, so ignorant was he of the ordinary phrase-
ology of Christians, that, like Nicodemus, on another subject, he
took the term fire in its literal acceptation, and in an instant his
fears were roused, his imagination was at work, and his eye wa3
directed to the door. He deemed his situation amongst the straw, as
one of the most hazardous, and in his imaginings, saw himself
enveloped in flame. He continued to fix an anxious eye upon the
entrance, but on perceiving, as he expressed himself, neither " smoke
nor fire," his fears were gradually allaj'cd, and he again lent an
attentive car to the worthy man, who had borrowed his simile, in all
probability, from the descent of the Holy Ghost, in " cloven tongues
like as of fire," and whose feelings seemed to accord with those that
stirred in the bosom of the Psalmist, when he said, — " My heart was
liot within me: while I was musing the fire barned: then spake I
with my tongue." There were two particulars which impressed the
mind of Samuel, and which ho afterwards pondered in his heart : the
one was the high value which the speaker stamped upon his ofiice,
and upon the jilace, dignifying the old barn with the title of a place
of wor.ship, and affirming that he "had rather be a door-keeper in the
house of God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness ; "* and the
other was his declaration of a knowledge of the fact, that his sius
were forgiven. Samuel could not conceive how the temporary appro-

• Au old Puritan writer wittily olisorves, "David had a reason for this; the door>
keeper is jirst in, and Icut out, of tbo house of Qod," and, therefore, has most of it.

THJi VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. O

Driatiwn of such a place to diviue worship, &c., could constitute it
" the iiouse of trod ; " or what honour or pleasure a man could derive
from the apparently humiliating circumstance of keeping watch over
a door that many would be ashamed to enter. But the knowledge of
forgiveness puzzled him most, and in this he seemed to have a
personal concern. His spirit clung to the fact, and he could not help
wishing that the case were his own — that he knew it for himself;
this plainly implying a knowledge of sin ; though, probably, he was
not painfully oppressed with its load. He took occasion the next day
to ask his master, how the man could know that his sins were
pardoned, and to express what he himself felt on the subject, — a
circumstance which would lead to the conclusion, that his master
possessed something more than the mere semblance of Christianity,
though not sufficient to lead him to establish the practice of family
prayer.

Whatever was the knowledge which the master imparted,
Samuel's feelings and enquiries are evident indications, that he was
visited with " drawings from above ; " and these were fostered soon
after by a local preacher from York, of the name of Thomas Peace,
who, while preaching on the " remission of sins," and insisting on a
knowledge of it, confirmed, by Scripture, all that had been heard
from the lips of experience in the bani. While the preacher wept,
and expostulated with the people, Samuel looked, and listened, and
also wept ; but, with him, they were tears of sympathy ; for, in his
boyish simplicity, he concluded that the man must have just come
from the grave of his wife ; and with equal simplicity, on his return
home, he enquired of his master, who had become his oracle, whether
it was not on account of the death of his wife, that the preacher had
been weeping. His master told him — and this is an additional proof
of the light which he possessed — that the tenderness manifested, was
occasioned by the love of God, which was shed abroad in his heart —
inspiring him with love lo his fellow-creatures. This was too high
for Samuel's comprehension, but not beyond the feelings of his lieart.
He loved the man while hearing him preach, but loved him more
now, ardently desired his return, and embraced every opportunity of
attending his ministry. His heart was gradually softening; the great
subject of religion was constantly revolving in his mind, like an orb
of light, yet he was unable to fasten his thoughts down to the con-
lemplatiou of its particular parts, with the exception of the doctrine
of pardon ; — and withal, he had not power over moral evil.

In 1776, when he had attained his eighteenth year, it being cus-
tomary for the young people of the neighbouring towns and villages
to visit the city of York on AVhit-Monday, in order to witness scenes
of folly and dissipation — especially wrestling-matches and fights, the

0 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

victors having prizes conferred upon them — he joined his companions,
repaired to the spot, and became a spectator. But being naturally
humane, and not having undergone any course of brutal discipline, to
render callous the better and more tender feelings of his heart, he
was not able to enter into the spirit of such gladiatorial scenes, —
scenes more worthy of Greece and Rome in their pagan state, than of
Christian Britain. This was not his element ; it was to him a scene
of "misery and cruelty," as he afterwards stated; and averting his
eyes from the objacts, he was suddenly attracted by another crowd of
people, occupying another part of the same public ground, encircling
a person who was elevated for the occasion, and seemed by his atti-
tude to be haranguing his hearers. Samuel left his associates, and
before the maddened yells and shouts of profanity had died upon his
ear, and for which iliat ear had not been tuned, he was saluted with a
hymn ; — the tAvo extremes furnishing an epitome of heaven and hell—
the one seen from the other, as the rich man beheld Iiazarus —
only with this important difference, among others, — no impassable
"gulph" was "fixed" between; "so that they which woiild pass
from" one to the other, might avail themselves of the privilege. This
was a moment of deep interest ; and on this single act, through the
Divine Being putting especial honour upon it, might hinge, in a great
measure, the bearings of his future life. He was partial to singimj,
and as the hymn was sung in different parts, he was the more de-
lighted. The conspicuous figure in the centre, was the late Richard
Burdsall, of York, i'ather of the Rev. John Burdsall, who had, with
his usual daring, entered the field against the enemy, and was mounted
on what Samuel designated a " block," for the purpose of giving him
a greater advantage over his auditory, while animadverting on the
profligacy of the times.* Mr. Burd.sall was remax-kably popular in
his day, and was just such a character, as a preacher, as Samuel, from
the peculiar construction of his own mind, was likely to fix upon, —
one Vvho would, on comi)aring the one with the other, have stood at
the head of the same class at school.f in which Samuel would have
been placed at the foot ; both being Jit for the class, as well as of it, —
only the one having attained to greater proficiency than the other ir a
somewhat similar line.

Samuel's attention was soon gained, and his affection won, which,

"* Tlic Wcslcyiiu Mt'lliodista hare iilways bocii distiusruislied for tlicir zealous
attempts to reclaim the vor^i \>nvi of liumiiii uatiiio yir.sl .- for this ixirposo they havo
resorted to inarkel.s, feasts, aud fairs; mid iu lookim: at the siluatiou of Bome of theii
oldest chapels— iu Whitliy, nud other places— it wdl be found that they frequently
pitched their tents iu the most Sodomitish parts of a town, with a view to improve
the most depraved as well ns the lowest tirades of society.

t QuaiiitnesH, wit, and imagiuatiou were nirely absent in Mr. B. Speaking to the
writer once, in the city of York, on his early call to the ministry, he said, " I 8e<*m to
have In-on something like a poitriil^^e : I ran away with the shell on my head "

Tut VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 7

to Mr. Burdsall, was of no small importance; for as he was pro-
ceeding with the service, a clergyman advanced towards him, declaring
that " he should not preach there, — not if he were the Lord Mayor
himself," and threatening to "pull him down from the block." Just as
he was preparing to cany his designs into execution, Samuel, whose
love to the preacher was such, that he felt, as he observed, as if he
"covdd lose the last drop of" his "blood" in his defence, stepped up
to the clergyman, clenched his hands, and holding them in a menacing
form to his face, accosted him in the abrupt and measured terms of
the ring, upon which he had but a few minutes before been gazing, —
" Sir, if you disturb tliat man of God, I wiU drop you as sure as ever
you were born." There was too much emphasis in the expression,
and too much fire in the eye, to admit a doubt that he was in earnest.
The reverend gentleman felt the force of it — his countenance changed
— the storm that was up in Samuel, had allayed the tempest in him —
and he looked with no small concern for an opening in the crowd, by
which he might make his escape. Samuel, though unchanged by
divine grace, had too much nobleness of soul in him, to trample upon
an opponent, who was thus in a state of humiliation before him, and,
therefore, generously took him under his protection — made a passage
for him through the audience, and conducted him to the outskiits
without molestation, when he quickly disappeared. The manner in
which this was done, the despatch employed, and the sudden calm
after the commotion, must have produced a kind of dramatic effect on
the minds of religious persons, who, nevertheless, in the midst of
their surprise, gratitude, and even harmless mirth at the precipitate
flight of their disturber, who was converted in an instant, by a mere
stripling, from the lion to the timid hare, would be no more disposed
to justify the clenched fist — the earth helping the woman in this way —
than they could be brought to approve of the zeal of Peter, when, by
a single stroke, he cut off the right ear of the high priest's servant.
Samuel instantly resumed the attitude of an attentive hearer, without
any apparent emotion from w:hat had just transpired. In the
hiuncliing forth his hand, he gave as little warning as the bolt of
heaven ; the flash of his eye was like the lightning's glare — a sudden
burst of passion, withering for the moment — seen — and gone.

The following good effects resulted from the sermon — a high
respect for the preacher, and a stronger attachnient to the Metho-
dists, as a people ; both having a tendency to lead him to the use of
the means by which the Divine Being conveys grace to the hearts of
His creatures. He remarked, that after this period, in following Mr.
Burdsall from place to place, he travelled " many scores of miles,"
and that he " never heard " him without being " blessed " under his
preaching. His feelings were in unison with those which dictated

8 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

Ruth's address to Naomi, " "VVliither thou gocst, I will go — thy
people shall be my people, and thy God my God ; " and as far ua
ch'cumstances would admit, and he had light to discover the truth,
he laboured to give vent to the overflowings of his heart. His case
was one which would lead to the conclusion, that his religion com-
menced in heat rather than lifjht ; that he continued for some time,
even beyond this period, more the subject of impression than of
instruction — felt, in short, what he was unable to express to others,
and for which he could not account to himself. He had been touched
by the wand of Moses at Horeb, which had unlocked some of the
secret springs of his heart, and put them in motion, rather than been
in the tabernacle of Aaron the priest, illuminated and perfected by
the Urim and Thummim. His heart was much more assailable than
his head, and, as will afterwards appear, was mu(;h more at work
through life, and had a more commanding influence over his conduct.
Divine light was admitted but slowly, not so much through any
violent opposition to it, or any process of reasoning carried on in his
mind against any of the particular doctrines of the gospel, as through
a want of power to arrange and classify his thoughts — to connect one
subject with another — to trace effects to their causes ; a want of the
means of information, as well as of a relish for reading, had the means
been at hand — a certain quickness in catching particular points,
which led him to think as some Hibernians are led to speak — and a
peculiarly animated temperament, which disposed him to warm him-
self at the fire of the Christian altar rather than silently gaze ujion a
cloudless sky — the splendid canopy of the great temple of the
universe. He seemed, in fact, to carry the more fiery part of his
trade into his religion, as he subsequently carried every part of his
religion into his trade. Full of the best and warmest feelings /or the
religion of Christ and its professors, and using the means in order to
attain it, he was now in a hopeful way, not only of verging towards
it, but of entering into its genuine spirit.

To these kindlings, yieldiugs, and advances, was at length added
conviction, though not the most poignant. The clouds which over-
hung his mind began to break away. This was effected by the
ministry of the Rev. John Wesley. The chronology of this event is
placed by Samuel's widow in the fifteenth year of his age; but by
himself, after the ])eriod of his having heard Mr. Burdsall : and
although the memory of the former is generally to be more depended
njwn than that of the latter, 3-et in this case Samuel was probably
the more correct of the two. It was in the old chapel at Leed.>^,
where he heard the founder of Methodism, and he scarcely appears
to have been sufficiently imi)reHscd with the importance of personal
milvation, duiiiig the first year of his apprenticeship, to lead him so

THE VIIXAGB BLACKSMITU. 9

many miles from home to hear a sermon; nor does he refer to any-
thing that seems to amount to conviction prior to his York excursion.
Still, the date is of minor importance, provided the fact be secured;
and the principal point to be attended to is — that of tracing the pro-
gi'essive steps by which he was led to the knowledge of himself and
of God, and to the enjoyment of " pure and undefiled religion." On
entering the chapel, he was awed and delighted with Mr. Wesley's
appearance, who, according to his conceptions of angeUc beings,
seemed at first sight to be " something more than man " — even " an
angel " of God. This prepossession in favour of the preacher,
naturally prepared the way for the speedy reception of the truths
deUvered. There was one subject, however — and all in ftivour of the
preacher — which Samuel was at a loss to comprehend. Mr. Wesley's
prophetic soul was led out in some part of the discourse, to connect
with the revival of religion which was going on, more glorious times;
intimating that, when his dust should mingle with the clods of the
valley, ministers more eminently successful than either himself, or
others by whom he was surrounded, would be raised to perpetuate
and extend the; work. Not distinguishing between ministerial
talent and ministerial usefulness, Samuel thought that 'Mr. Wesley
intimated that rjreater preachers than himself would supply his place;
thus giving Mr. Wesley the credit of indirectly associating himself
with the great — though greater were to tread in his steps. Samuel,
according to his own exposition of Mr. Wesley's words, could not
conceive it within the range of possibility for any one to equal, much
more to surpass him ; for, to use his own language, " he preached
like an angel." The text was, " Show me thy faith without thy
works, and I will show thee my faith by my works."* In addition to
Mr. Wesley's appearance, and his exalted character as a preacher, we
discover part of the secret of Samuel's estimate of him, in himself.
It might now be said of him, as of Saul of Tarsus, " And immediately
there fell from his eyes as it had been scales ; " — his mental vision
was rendered more acute, as well as enlarged. On hearing Mr.
Wesley, he emphatically " received his sight," and that too in the
most important sense : — he had Ustened to one of whom ho might
have said — not indeed as the woman of Samaria, " Come see a man
that has told me all tilings that ever I did," but " Covie see a man that
has told me all things of which I am dkstitute." Though he could
not give any correct account of the manner in which the suljject was
treated, there was one conclusion which he was enabled to di-aw
from the whole, and which penetrated too deeply for him ever to
forget — that he possessed neither faith nor works which God could
either approve or accept.

* Jatn>i8 ii. 13.

10 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

In no previous instance had the hand of God been so visible as in
this; and the state of the subject of the memoir may be illustrated
by that of one of two persons shut up in a dark room, where the
other having seen it by daylight, expatiates to his fellow an hour or
two on its height, length, width, and form, the nakedness and colour
of the walls, with all its other peculiarities. From the description
given, aided by his blind attempts to feel his way into evei-y corner,
and lay his hands upon everything within his reach, the hearer may
be able to form some conception of the apartment and situation in
which he stands. But it is easy to conceive, that a third person
opening the door, and entering the room with a lighted taper in his
hand, would throw more light upon tne subject in one single moment,
than a person of the highest descriptive powers through description
alone, could do in twelve hours. This, though not a perfect illus-
tration, is sufficient for the present purpose: Samuel had heard
preaching repeatedly ; a description of the moral condition of man, of
the new creature in Christ Jesus, of the awful and glorious realities
of an invisible world, of everything, in short, connected with man as
a subject of the moral government of God, had been given in the
discourses which he had heard ; but through his own supineness — his
not asking for Divine aid, or, if he asked, his asking amiss, he re-
mained in the "darkness" of ignorance, error, and unbelief, without
"light" to guide him either in his conceptions, his decisions, or his
walk. He, however, who commanded light to shine out of dark-
ness, commanded it here to shine into darkness ; a pure ray was shot
from the Sun of Righteousness, illuminating all within. Samuel
found the " house" emptij of all good — not sivt'jit of evil — nor gar-
nished with holiness. It was light which produced a conviction, not
so much of the 'presence of evil, as of the absence of good. He saw
that he was "j)oor" and "naked" and had till now been "blind;"
but the negative character of his conviction did not constitute him
"wretched" because of sin, or "miserahle" because of the cnormifij
of that sin. The flaming sword was permitted to turn only in one
direction; other operations were apparently restrained, till the present
had its full effect, and the subject was fully prepared for their exercise.
The Holy Spirit had been already in operation, softening and gcnt'y
impi'cssiug the heart — all pi'cj)aratory to a further work of grace.
There was tire, as has Ijccn previously stated; but it was fii'e without
flame — fire smouldering under ashes, and consccpicntly incapable of
emitting the beneficial light. It was now that the shades of night, in
which he had been so lung enveloped, seemed to say, as the angel said
to Jacob, " Let ua go, for the day breaketh."

TUB V1LLAG£ BLACKSMlia. 11

CHAPTER n.

lie leaves his master before the expiration of his apprenticeship— is providentiallj
directed to a suitable situation, and commences business for himself — his maniage
— his benevolence — death of his wife's mother— is alarmed by a dream — obtains
mercy — suddenness of his conversion — its fruits — his zeal — answer to prayer, and
effects of his expostulation with a landlady — summary of the evidence of his
conversion.

It has been quaintly, but significantly observed, in reference to the
providential lot of human beings, that " Every peg has its hole."
Whatever may have been the primaiy design of the remark, it is
certainly applicable to the notions of personal comfort and probable
usefulness ; — the former effected by the adaptation of tlaepiii to the
place and of the place to the pin, and the latter by its projection —
going beyond itself so to speak — affording an opportunity both to
friends and strangers, of suspending upon its form whatever they
may desire, whether from inclination or necessity. And the man
who permits his Maker to "choose'' his "inheritance" for him, will
rarely be placed in a situation in which it will be impossible for some
of his fellow-creatures to hang upon him their hopes, their weaknesses,
and their wants. This will apply with equal propriety to persons in
humble life, as to persons in the more elevated ranks of society. "VVe
are taught the doctrine of a wise and bountiful Providence in the fall
of a " sparrow," and in the adornings of the " lilies," — of a Providence
which is both permissive and active in its operations — directing in the
outset, and entering into the minutest cu'cumstances of human life.
General observation would almost warrant the belief that there is a
starting-point for every man, later or earlier in life, subject to his own
choice : and in proportion as he proceeds along the line, or deviates
from it, will be the amount of his success or adversity — connecting
with the situation, in the person that holds it, industry, economy, and
integrity. The principal difficulty is in the choice. Religiously to
determine this, we ought never to lose sight of the circumstances of
the case, personal competency, and general usefulness. Several of
these remarks will apply to the subject of this memoir.

Though Samuel had acted in the capacity of a faithful servant to
his master for some years, a circumstance took place which led to a
separation before the expiration of his apprenticeship. His master's
daughter conceived an attachment to hira, which was returned.

12 TEX VILLAGE BLACKSUITU.

though nob to the same extent, by Samuel. This naturally led to
certain domestic attentions, in which the young woman contributed
to his comfort; and having a little money at command, she occa-
sionally assisted him, with a view to give strength to the bond which
subsisted. His master coming down stairs one morning, a little
earlier than usual, found him seated with Miss Derby on his knee.
He instantly returned, and told his wife, whom he had left in bed ;
and after unveiling the circumstance, said, " I believe she is as fond
of the lad as ever cow was of a calf." On again descending the stairs,
he chided them both, and signified his disapprobation of their attach-
ment. The day passed on with evident indications that the master
was brooding on the subject ; and at length he ordered Samuel, with
a good deal of angry feeling, to leave his house and his service. The
dismissal having been given at an evening hour, Samuel requested
permission to remain till next day, which was granted. To prevent
any matrimonial connection from taking place between them, the
father, on Samuel's removal, contrived to form a union between his
daughter and a person of some property, but much her senior, offering
as an inducement a handsome dowry. Miss D. wrote to Samuel the
day previous to her marriage, requesting him to meet her at a speci-
fied time and place, and pledged herself to him for ever, as the sole
object of her first affection. Poor Samuel was placed in circumstances
at the time from which it was impossible to escape; and the fitfsl
moment glided away from both, without improvement, to their inex-
pressible grief. As tliis was a compulsory measure, the bride gave
her hand without her heart ; her spirits shortly afterwards became
depressed, and confirmed insanity ensued. Samuel was sent for by
her friends — he obeyed the summons — the sight of him increased her
malady, and added to the poignancy of his own feelings — he hastily
withdrew, and she died soon after. As an affair of honour, it may
be said, " In all this " Samuel " sinned not."* Abandoned, however,
as he was by his master, the Lord directed him by his providence.

Without giving the West Yorkshire dialect, which he icrote as well
as spoke, and which it would be as diflicult for persons in the southern
counties of England to read and to understand without a glossary,
as the "Lancashire Dialect," the substance of his relation, when
" entering upon the world" — to employ a familiar phrase — is clear,
simple, and touching. " When I was one and twenty years of ngc,"
he states, " there was a shop at liberty, at Micklcficld, rind my father

• Old Mrs. Derby, who snrvivefl Snmiiel, ami wa8 living at HealaiiKh, in 18;?!, in
the 90th year of liur age, wa.s very partial to him. always styliug him "Our S-im;"
and Mr. D., ou seeing his d.aughtcr'B distress, was heard to say, "O that I had let
Sammy have vaj IosrI" Samuel paid occasional rii'ts to hit c^■^ niistreaa to the end
of his d.ivs.

TUE VILLAGE BI.A.CK.SMITH. IS

took it for me. I hero began business for myself; and when I had
paid for my tools, I was left without a penny in my pocket, or a bit of
bread to eat. But I was strong and in good health, and laboured
hard ; and that God who sent the ravens to feed his servant, fed me.
One day, while at work, a man came into my shop, who told me that
his wife had fed the pig so fat, as to render it useless to the family,
and that he would sell me the one-half of it very cheap. I told him
that I wished it were in my power to make the purchase — that I was
much in need — but that I was without money. He replied, he would
trust me ; and I agreed to take it. I mentioned the circumstance to
a neighbour, who offered to lend me five pounds, which I sccepted:
and out of this I paid the man for what I had bought. I continued
to labour hard, and the Lord, in his abundant goodness, supplied all
my wants." From this it would seem, that he had not been anxiously
looking in every direction for a situation, and, on finding every provi-
dential door shut, had not sat down to quarrel with the dispensations
of God, or made some hazardous attempts to force an opening : nor
was the situation at first either perceived by himself, or the door — to
proceed with the allusion— but slightly turned upon its hinges, leaving
the possibility or propriety of enti-ance stUl problematical. It was
thrown open by the Hand that regulates all human afiarrs — circum-
stances invited the father to the spot — he took his survey — Samuel
having been released from his connection with his master, found the
occurrence seasonable — poverty was his portion, but no capital was
requisite for the purchase of stock — previous industry and economy
prepared him to meet the expense of tools — his father led him up to
the door which his Maker had opened — labour was instantly furnished,
and the " daily bread" for which he was commanded to pray, was
supplied — the confidence and kindness of friends encouraged him to
proceed — and there he continued, succeeded, and was afterwards useful.
Providence appeared to meet him at every turn, and, as in a piece
of wedge-work, adapted its movements to all the peculiarities of
his case.

After having been established in business for the space of eighteen
months, without apparently elevating his mind above the drudgery
of the day, he meditated a change in his domestic circumstances.
"The Lord," he observes, "saw thab I wanted a helpmeet" — he knew
the character that would "suit me best" — and was so "kind" as to
furnish me with " one of his own choosing." From the form of
expression employed, it should seem that there was an allusion to his
first attachment, which he might be led to consider as not of God,
from the circumstance of his having been thwarted in his purpose.
His courtship, in its commencement and termination, preserves the
singularity which distinguished most of the leading transactions of

14 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

his life. His partiality to singing led him to unite himself to the choir
that attended Aberford Church, which union continued for the space of
ten years. Here he became acquainted with her who was destined to
be his bride, and to survive him as his widow. The first time he saw
her, which was during divine service, it was powerfully impressed upon
his mind, that she should one day become his wife. Under such im-
pressions, and in great simplicity, he walked up to her immediately
on leaving the church, and unbosomed his feelings and thoughts on
the subject. She heard his first lispings with sui-prise, and felt their
force; for from that period they delighted in each other's society,
and were finally united in holy matrimony in Spofford Church. She
was six years older than himself. On leaving the hymeneal altar, and
reaching the church door, a number of poor widows pressed around
him to solicit alms. His heart was touched ; the tear was in his eye ;
"I began the world," said he to himself "without money, and I will
again begin it straight." The thought was no sooner conceived, and
the generous impulse felt, than the hand, wliicli emptied the pocket,
scattered the last pence of which he was possessed among the craving
applicants. The bride being entitled to some property, and work
pouring in upon him, his exhausted stores were soon recruited : and
believing that a blessing followed the donation, he appended to a
narrative of the event, in a tone of triumph, " The Lord gave me a
good wife, and I have never wanted money since that day."

The fine glow of devotional feeling occasionally experienced in his
youth, had for some time become extinct ; and he had not in his
situation, been brought into contact with any decidedly religious
character, to revive it, except the mother of his wife, who was a
member of the Wesleyan Connexion. He complained, that at this
period, his wife and himself were " both strangers to saving grace " —
that the "parish" could not boast of a single Methodist — and that
there was not "one" of his "own family that knew the Lord." His
mother-in-law, who, it would seem, did not reside in the same parish
with himself, often spoke to him on the subject of religion, and inter-
ceded with God both for him and his partner. Example, exhortation,
and prayer, were ineffectual. The appeal was to be made to the
passions; and through these was the entrance to be made which
would effect his deliverance from the thraldom of Satan. His mother-
in-law sickened and died. The happiness she experienced in her last
hours, softened the heart and re-awakened the attention of Samuel to
the concerns of his soul. This, however, but for what he denomi-
nated a " vision," iiad been " as the early dew that passoth away."

Three days after her dissolution, he dreamed that she appeared to
him arrayed in white, took him by the hand, and atlectionately
warned him to flee from the wrath to como; stating, that if he did

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMnu. 15

not repent he could never meet her in the paradise of God. At the
close of the addi-ess, the visionary form vanished ; conviction, while
he slumbered, seized his spirit ; he awoke in terror, and to use his
own language, "jumped out of bed " — thus furnishing another ex-
position of the language of the man in the land of Uz — " When I say,
my bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint ; then
thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiost me through visions."
This sudden spring from the bed, roused his wife; his groans and
distress alarmed her ; and supposing him to have been suddenly
seized with some complaint that threatened his life, she was proceed-
ing to awaken the neighbours, and to call them to her assistance,
when she was arrested in her course, in the midst of the darkness
with which she was surrounded, with a sentence wrung from the
depths of his agonised spirit, and uttei-ed in sobs — " I want Jesus —
Jesus to pardon all my sins." It was sufficient for her to know that
he was not in immediate danger from affliction ; her fears were
therefore quickly dissipated, but she could afford him no consolation.
This he seemed to feel, and observed, " I had no Paul to say to me,
' Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved ; ' nor
any praying wife to pray for me." It was the midnight of desola-
tion; and the only light by which the way of mercy could be dis-
covered, was fi'om within. The flood of day which was poured upon
his mind, was as strong as it was sudden ; and differing in degree
from that with which he was visited under the ministry of ^Ir.
Wesley, he now beheld both sides of his case — not only the absence of
all good, but the 'presence of real evil. " My eyes," said he, " were
opened — I saw all the sins I had committed through the whole
course of my life — I was like the Psalmist — I cried out like the
gaoler." He added with considerable emphasis, " I did say my
prayers, as I never did before ; " meaning that he had only said them
previously to this period. He further observed, that it might be
said of him, as of Saul, " Behold, he prayeth ! "

The ministerial instruction which he had at different periods
received, led him, in the midst of much ignorance on other subjects,
to adopt the proper means, and to look to the true source of happi-
ness, in order to its attainment. He had heard of one Jesus of
Nazareth, like Saul; and though that Jesus had not before been
experimentally revealed to him, yet such was the strength of the
light he received, that it enabled him to recognise in Hm from whom
it proceeded, the face of a Saviour and a Fi'iend. The Sun of
Righteousness, like the orb of day, discovers himself by his own
shining. It is in his light, that we see light ; Samuel was in the
light, in the midst of natural daikness : and though he could not
liear the prayers of a wife, he had confidence in the intercession of a

16 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

Saviour. " Jesus," said he " was my advocate ; I put in my case,
and he pleaded for me before the throne of God. I believed that
the blood of Christ was shed for me; and the moment I believed,
I found peace. I could adopt the language of the poet, —

• My God is reconciled,

His pardoning voice I hear;
He owns me for his child,

I can no longer fear ;
With confidence I now draw nigh.

And Father, Abba, Father cry." "

His state, as an inhabitant of the natui'al world, afforded a fair
exemplification of the change through which he passed. He reposed
himself in darkness — lay in that darkness, like the dead in the tomb
— and was passing through this insensible state, to the light of
another day. On the same evening, as a sinner before his God, he lay
down in the darkness of a deeper night than that of which sleep is
but the image — awoke in spiritual light — and was, ere the natural
light broke upon his eye, enabled to exult in the dawn of a fairer
morning than ever beamed upon our earth — a morning which can
only be surpassed by the morning of the resurrection, when the just
shall kindle into life at the sight of the Sun of Eighteousncss, to
which this, through the vivifying rays of the same Sun, formed the
happy prelude. Spiritual life succeeded spiritual light. To object
to the genuineness of the work, because of its suddenness, would be to
plead a "needs he" for our continuance in a state of comparative
darkness, danger, misery, and death, in opposition to the end pro-
posed by the scheme of human redemption, through Jesus Christ,
which was to complete our deliverance from such a state — would be
to prescribe limits to the power, goodness, and purity of " the Holt
One of Israel," as though he were unable to effect such a change, but
by degrees, unwilling at once to soothe our sorrows, approving of our
continuance in a state of moral defilement — would be to doubt the
veracity of the Holy Ghost, in his statements of the sudden illumina-
tion of Saul, the sudden conviction of the multitude under the
preaching of Peter, and the instantaneous pardon of the penitent
thief — and would, finally, be to obstruct the course of our obedience,
in compliance with all the exhortations which urge us, and all the
injunctions which bind us, to an immediate preparation for another
state of being, as well as needlessly to expose us, through sudden
death, to the " bitter pains " of death eternal.

But the doctrine of sudden conversion is becoming every day less
objcftionable; and the "holy ground " on which that conversion took
place is, not barely visited by hymning seraphs, of the Christian
Church, who chaunt their songs within the sacred incloaure, but is

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 17

respected and honoured by some of our first epic poets from without,

through whose pen the ground has at length become poetically

classical.* Thus, in "The Poet's Pilgrimage to Waterloo," the

author, in his moments of vision, after tasting the tree of knowledge,

sings —

" In awe I heard, and trembled, and obeyed ;

The bitterness was even as of death ;

I felt a cold and piercing thrill pervade

My loosened Umbs, and losing sight and breath.
To earth I should have fallen in my despair,
Had I not clasped the Cross, and been supported there.

" My heart, I thought was bursting with the force

Of that most fatal soul-sick fruit ; I felt.
And tears ran down in such continuous course.

As if the very eyes themselves shoidd melt :
But then I heard my heavenly Teacher say,
' Drink, and this mortal stound shall pass away.*

" I stooped and drank of that divinest Well,

Fresh from the Rock of Ages where it ran :
It had a heavenly quality to quell

My pain : — I rose a renovated man.
And would not now when that relief was known,
For worlds the needful suffering have foregone."

These sentiments, though highly poetical, take their root in fact,
and owe their beauty and their excellence to truth, of which they are
the fictitious representatives. The deep distress, the heart- siclcnesi
referred to, would, by a simple-hearted Christian, be styled deep con-
viction for sin, or the pains of repentance antecedent to pardon ; by a
philosopher, a species of religious madness. The passing away of the
" mortal stound," would be contemplated under the notion of peace of
mind, after the penitent had, by faith, " clasped the cross," or rather
the Crucified. The brief space of time allotted for the whole, would
at once entitle the work, to the general appellation of sudden con-
version: for the poet had only to stoop — to drink — to ri<se, and to rise
too, a renovated man. This bears such a striking analogy to the case
of the sin-sick Village Biacksmith, whose personal history is passing
in review — who knelt in distress before his God — implored mercy
— and rose renewed and happy — that the poet, had he known the fact,
could scarcely have been more felicitous in its illustration.

So fully satisfied was Samuel himself of the genuineness of the
work, that he fi-equently, in after life, when dwelling upon his
religious views and feelings, recurred to the very "flag " on which he
knelt, and where he remained as he had risen from his couch, un-
annoyed by the cold, till he experienced peace with God. No sooner
was he put in possession of the " pearl of great price," than he waited

* See the writer's Letter to Dr. Southey, Poet Laureate, on the Life of Mr.
Wp.sley, pubUshed in the Waileyan MethodUt Magoiine, 1818, pp. 260,— 310,— 419.

0

18 TIIK VIJXAOK BLACKSililli.

with the anxiety of the watchman for the morning, to be dclivcrnd
from a situation which had become so burdensome through over-
wrought joy, — a joy that could only find relief in the hearts of others,
hearts ready, as the recipients of its overflowings, to share in its
fulness. But where were hearts to be found, to become the recep-
tacles of such joy ? It was not for him to say, with the Psalmist,
" Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what He
hath done for my soul ; " or, " I \n\\ declare thy name unto my
brethren : in the midst of the congregation I will praise thee."
Though coiKjreyations were not remote, yet there were no brethren
with whom he could claim religious affinity — none that feared God,
with whom he was acquainted. He resolved, therefore, to proclaim
the goodness of God to his " neighbours ; " and like Melancthon, to
whom truth appeared so simple, and yet so forcible, that he instantly
calculated on the conquest of others, but had soon to complain that
old Adam was too strong for young Melancthon, Samuel — and the
thought has haunted many beside these, both learned and illiterate —
contemplated nothing short of the sudden conversion of every person
in the neighbourhood. " I thought," he remarked, " I could make
all the world believe, when daylight appeared. I went to my neigh-
bours, for I loved my neighbour as myself. I wished them all to
experience what I felt. The first that I went to was a landlady. I
told her what the Lord had done for me ; and that what he had done
for me, he could do for her — exhorting Iter to pray and believe."
This was no new language to the ear into which it was poured, for
the woman seemed to know to what source it was traceable. "What,"
she retorted, " have you become a Methodist ? You were a good
neighbour and a good man before ; and why change ? The Metho-
dists are a set of rogues, and you will soon be like them." Samuel,
who was at least guiltless of Methodism, had too important a subject
in hand to spend his time in disclaiming his brotherhood, and there-
fore continued to press upon her attention the necessity of personal
religion, telling her, if her "sins" were " not pardoned," it would be
impossible for her to go " to heaven." Unprepared for such service,
partly from the early hour, partly from the personal nature of the
discourse, but more especially from the character of the preacher —
who, only the day before, h.-vd given so little promise of anything of
the kind — she became indignant, and in her ire turned him out of the
house, in which he might have remained till evening, reducing him-
self by intoxication, beneath a level with the brute creation. Fiery
as was his zeal for her salvation, he received the requital of his good
intentions with meekness; and instead of repining at the rebuff',
retired to a fit-Id, and poured out his soul in prayer to God on hor
behalf. He had just been favoured with a proof of the efficacy of

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 19

prayer in his own case ; and the simple thought, that, " what God
had done for himself he could do for others," so fully occupied his
mind, that in its strength and simplicity, he was led on from one
part of prayer to another — from confession, supplication, and thanks-
giving, in reference to himself, to that of intercession for those around.
The fire of divine love burnt upon the altar of his heart — faith was in
exercise — hope was on the wing — every feeling, though infantile, was
strong — he again returned to the contest — but what a change ! " To
rny surprise," he observed, "when I went back, she was crying at
the door-stead. She asked me to forgive her. Oh, yes, that I will, I
said ; and if you will let me go in, and pray with you, the Lord will
forgive you too." His words and his manner, when the woman was
left to herself, had been the subject of reflection; and from the im-
pression made, she readily acceded to the proposal. " She took me,"
continued he, " into a room ; and there I prayed for her. It was not
long before the Lord blessed her; and he thus gave me the first soul
I asked for. He can do a great work in a little time. She lived and
died happy. This encouraged me to go on in the duty of prayer."

If an inward renewal is known by its effects, the tree by its fruit,
the evidence of Samuel Hick's conversion to God is not less certain
than if it had been less sudden. He had employed the means —
prayer and faith, instituted by God himself, for the attainment of
his favour — he experienced joij in the Holy Ghost through believing
— having been made a partaker of "salvation," and being "upheld
with" God's " free Spirit," he immediately began, in primitive style,
to "teach transgressors" the "ways" of righteousness, and a "sinner"
was " converted" to the truth. The temper of mind which he mani-
fested under opposition, his readiness to forgive, the constraining
influence of the love which he felt, the persevering quality of the
principle by which he was actuated, hxs joy over a simier repenting —
only to be compared with that possessed by an angelic being — all,
all are indications of one of whom it might be said, " Old things are
passed away : behold, all things are become new." Add to this,
every part of his personal history, from this time to the hour of his
death, is confirmatory of Christian character. While a career of
between forty and fifty years of Christian usefulness, connected
with a strictly moral conduct, renders it improbable that he should,
for such a length of time, impose upon others ; his views of his
state and of his services, and his abhorrence of sin, authorise the
belief that there was no deception practised upon himself. It was
not a state of mere improved feeling, nor the whitewash of Phari-
saism ; the change entered the grain of the man — turning him
inside out to others, to whom anything in the shape of guile was
invisible — and outside in upon himself, while he declared from the

c 2

20 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

internal and external evidence which a depraved nature, and a pre-
viously sinful life had fui-nished, that he had been " as big a heathen
as any of the natives of Ceylon," having " had gods many, and lords
many;" but that "the Lord, vrhen he awakened " his "soul," enabled
him " to cut them off at a stroke." He reasoned not with flesh and
hlood ; he spared no Agag — he reserved no sin.

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH,

CHAPTEE in.

He tiocka cliurch-fellowsliip — advises with a pions clerg-ynian, with whom he meets In
baud— unites himself, ou the clergymau's leaving the neighbourhood, to the
Wesleyan Methodists —the kind of preaching under which he profited— Society at
Sturton Grange — revival of religion — two colUers rendered extensively iisefid — a
schtary bam the resort of the devout— Samuel's distress on account of iadwelling
sin, and his dehverance from it— singular occurrence — deep distress compatible
with a state of justification.

Man, who was originally formed for society, and furnislied with its
felicities in Paradise, carries with him into every climate, and into all
circumstances, those elements which, when propei-ly improved and
directed, not only fit him for social life, but render him restless with-
out it, as well as inspire him with a solicitude for its blessings. A
few solitary hermitical and misanthi'opic excejjtions, or an occasional
wish for " wings like a dove," to "fly away" from its bustle, in order
to "be at rest," are not to be adduced as arguments against the
general principle ; for even among those who are most partial to
i-etirement, who are least in love with the world of beings around
them, and who, in opposition to the designs of God in helping man
by man, convert themselves into 'misers' treasure — a kind of moral
and intellectual casli, hoarded up in the safe of a monastery or a
nunnery, useless to such as are most in need of their aid, and whose
wants might be essentially relieved by an expenditure of their time
and of their talents — even among those the love of society is inherent,
and is manifested by their institutions, where gi'otips are permitted
to dwell and mingle with each other, if not as the coin itself, as tho
misers of Christianity. This love of society is not destro^'ed, but
regulated and strengthened by religion ; and by no one is it more
needed or more ardently desu-ed, than by a person newly " found in"
Chiist. The notion of " going to heaven alone," of preserving our
religion a "secret" — which, by the way, belongs only to those who
have no religion to exhibit — is instantly annihilated on the reception
of pardon. The charm of secrecy is broken — and why ? Tlicre is
now " something to say" — subject matter for conversation. "Anew
song" is put into the "mouth," and it must he sung ; a "morsel"
has been received, and it cannot be eaten " alone." Nor is the wi,<b
to comniuni'.ate confined bareLr tc a jjersou's entrance on the divine

22 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

life ; " it grows vritli his growth." " They that feared the Lord spako
often one to another."

Samuel, who was in danger of casting Ms "pearls hefore swine,"
and who had confounded attempts at usefulness with "the com-
munion of saints," was instinctively led to seek the latter from the
nature of his own wants. " I was at a sad loss," says he, " for church-
fellowship, there being no society near." This "loss" could not
allude to any privation of privilege, with the enjoyment of which he
had been previously favoured; for no such enjoyment had been
known. The want was created with the character which he now
sustained. It was the want of a child — himself being only a habe in
Christ — looking for some one to guide and support his steps ; the
want of another regimen than that to which he had been accustomed
— of other food, for the support of a new life. His connection with
the Methodists, as a hearer, whether occasional or constant, seems to
have been broken off with his servitude at Healaugh ; and no person
of that persuasion being near, a closer connection could not be imme-
mediately and conveniently renewed. Having been accustomed to
attend the service of the Established Church, after his residence at
Mickleficld, he natui'ally looked to its members for communion.
The light, however, which he hr.d received, was sufficiently discrimi-
native in its character to guide him to the right spot. Instead of
"wending his way" to Aberford, where he had distinguished himself
as a chorister, he proceeded with the infallibility of instinct, to
Lcdsham, and with great simplicity solicited an interview with the
resident clergyman. "I asked him," he remarks, " what I should do ;
and he told me to call on him the next Lord's-day morning, when he
would advise with me." He accordingly repaired to the house at
the time appointed, and was cordially received, as well as religiously
instructed. Samuel's testimony of him — because the testimony of
experience — is of more value, in an evangelical point of view, than the
highest panegyric from the pen of a literary nominal professor of
Christianity. It is the lisping of childhood, as yd unaccustomed to
artifice. " He was a very good man, and preached the Gospel. I
went to Ledsham some time ; but he was at length obliged to leave,
for his salary would not keep him. Then I was at a loss for my
band-mate." The last ex^iression, the full import of which can only
be known and felt by persons enjoying the sweets of Christian fellow-
ship, shows the tenderness and condescension, the solicitude, the
sympathies of this ecclesiastic — the Village PATiUAncii stooping from
his dignity, and taking, as a hand-mate, "sweet counsel" with the
"Village Blacksmith!"*

• Ledsham is tlio village (in which stands the church) in which the lat<3 Rev.
Walter ScUou, who waa vicar of the parish, Uvcd and died; and Ledstone Hall, at no

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 23

Tliis was a gracious providence to Samuel, through which lie was
enabled, in the childhood of his Christianity, to acquire strength ;
and but for which he might have found it difficult to walk alone.
He had not long, hoAvever, to bemoan his bereavement. The Lord, on
removing one stay, speedily supplied its place with another. It was
with Samuel, therefore, as with a child, a change of nurses, rather
than a privation, or even a serious suspension, of the kindly offices
requisite for the support and guidance of his weakness and inex-
perience. " The Lord," he observed, " sent Mr. Wade to Sturton
Grange, where they took in the preachers, and had a society. As I
felt my want of church-fellowship, I went to ask them to take me
into society. They offered to take me on trial ; and I continued a
member till we got a society in our own place, which was not long,
for I never let them alone." He had an ardent desire for the salva-
tion of sinners ; and his not letting them alone refers as much to his
conversational effiarts to reclaim his neighbours, as to any request
that a portion of the privileges of the society to which he had united
himself, which was but little more than a mile distant, should be
transferred to Micklefield. Thus adverting to his situation, to pro-
mote the religious welfare of others, he remarked, "I had -a good
opportunity, as nearly the whole of the town came to my shop ; and
I was always at them. I found my share of persecution ; but thia
did not daunt me, or prevent me calling on sinners to repent, believe,
and be converted."

great distance from it, is the place wliere the reuowned Lady Betty Hastings also
resided, and finally resigned her soul into the hands of her God. The clerg-yman of
whom Samuel speaks is suj)posed to have been Mr. Wightman, who was curate to Mr.
Sellon : the former a Calvinist, and the latter an Amiiuian in creed ; and, thougl
folary might have its share of influence in the question of removal, it is strongly
suspected that doctrinal sentiments aided in turning the scale. Mr. SeUon was a
sturdy supporter of the doctrine of General Eedemption, and fought some hard
battles in early Ufe, against the Calvinistic view of the subject, under the auspices of
Mr. Wesley ; but towards the close of Mr. Wesley's pilgrimage, Mr. Sellon manifested
a degree of coldness towards his old friend. In a manuscript correspondence of Mr.
Wesley with Mr. Sellon, in the possession of the writer, it appears that the warmth
of friendship began to subside, when Mr. Sollou resided at Ashby-de-la-Zouch. Prom
1772 to 1784, there is a chasm in the correspondence. Up to theforaier period, Mr.
Wesley's address was " Dear Walter," with all the familiarity of close friendshii) :
but on Mr. Sellou's residence at Ledsham, at which place he lived during the l.itter
period, the address was altered to " Dear Sir," one of the letters concluding with,
*' You used to meet me, when I came near you ; but you seem of late years to have
forgotten your old friend and brother, John Wesley." Among the manuscript letters
referred to, are some curious epistolary specimens written by Mr. Charles Wesley to
Mr. Sellon ; also some rare ones addressed to the same person, from the Eev. Messrs.
J. Fletcher, Vin. Perrouet, E. Perrouet, Sir Ricliard Hill, and the Countess of ,
Huntingdon— all tending to throw light on the controversies and passing events of
the times — which another occasion may render it proper to present to the public.
How long Mr. Sellon remained at Ledsham, the writer is at present unable to ascer-
tain ; but it is probable, from the Wesleyan Meth. Mag. for 1818, p. 53, that he was
either in the village, or in its immediate vicinity, in a state of great aiBiction, in 1790
and 1791.

21 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

It was not barely by j-eproof and exhortation that he sought to
multiply the number of travellers to Zion, but also by earnest and
affectionate invitation. The first-fruit of tliis description of labour —
labour which has been extremely productive in a variety of instances
— was a wealthy agriculturist. " Mr. Thomas Taylor," said he,
" came to preach at Sturton Grange, and I invited all I could to go
and hear him. One of these was Mr. Rhodes,* a large farmer who
lived in the parish ; and who said, if I would call upon him he would
go with me. Blessed be the Lord ! on the same night, the Gospel
proved the power of God to his salvation. I remember the text : it
referred to the tares and the wheat. The tares were gathered and
tied into bundles. There was a bundle of Sabbath-breakers, a bundle
of swearers, &c. These bundles were to be burnt ; and before the
sermon was finished, the preacher had got Mr. Rhodes bound up in
one of them. From that time the Lord added to our number : we
got preaching to our place, and soon had a class-meeting." This,
it should seem, from a reference to the Minutes of Conference, was
either in the year 1785, or 1786, when Mr. Taylor was stationed in
the Leeds circuit. Such preaching as this was as much calculated to
instruct the uneducated mind of Samuel, as it was to arrest the
attention of the farmer. Keach would have been a superior preacher,
in his estimation, to Saurin, and he would have profited more by the
Metaplwrs of the one than by the Sermons of the other. He could
fasten upon some of the more prominent parts of a highly figurative
discourse, and turn them to good personal and practical account ;
but would have been in danger of running wild with the remainder.
He knew much better when to commence, than how to proceed, or
where to close.

But it was not in criticism that he was skilled : nor was it into
the niceties of Christian doctrine that he could enter. He knew the
truth better in its operation on the heart, than in its shillings on the
understanding ; and could tell much better how it felt, than in what
position and connection it stood. He seemed to possess the faculty
in religion, which some blind people are said to possess in a rare
degree, in reference to colours — a faculty of describing it by the
tonch; for scarcely anything advanced amounted with him to truth,
unless it fell with power upon his heart. He had received the doc-
trine of justification as an experimental truth, though utterly unable,
in puritanic st)'le, to enter into a detail of its moving, meritorimis,
remote, immediate, and instnim<'iital causes ; and this led to another

• In a letter from Mr. Dawson, dated April 3rd, 1830, referrinj? to Mr. Rliodes,
he observes, " He is still living at Micklefield. I saw him yesterday. He is nearly
blind, and liis constitution is fast breaking up. He will not survire Samuol long.
The Methodists always preached and still preach at his bouse."

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 25

doctrine, equally momentous — a doctrine of experience, no less than
of theory — the sandification of the heart to God. " After he had
enjoyed the blessing of conscious pardon," says Mr. Dawson, " he
discovered that there was a higher state of grace to be attained — that
such a state was purchased for him by the blood of Jesus Christ —
and was to be applied to his soul by the Holy Ghost, through faith.
This he sought in the way which God appointed, and found the
promise realised — ' Every one that asketh receiveth ; and he that
seeketh findeth ; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.' He
was enabled to believe for a higher enjoyment of divine love, and from
the hour he believed, obtained a richer measure of it, thi'ough which
he was empowered to ' Rejoice evermore ; pray without ceasing ; in
everything give thanks.' "

This further change was wrought in his soul in the year 1794, and
the following are some of the circumstances connected with its attain-
ment. "About this time (1794)," he observes, "there was a great
revival of the work of God at Sturton Grange, near Micklefield. The
meetings were held in Rig Lair* Some hundred of souls were con-
verted to God, and many were sanctified. I was one of the happy
number, not only convinced of the necessity of Christian holiness, but
who, blessed be the Lord ! proved for myself, that the blood of Christ
cleanseth from sin." Mr. Dawson, in adverting to this extraordinary
work of God, in connection with Samuel's progi'ess in religion, states,
that " there was an extraordinary outpouring of the Spirit upon
nearly the whole of Yorkshire, and that it was most remarkably felt
in the ne-ighbourhood of Micklefield. At a solitary barn," continues
he, "which stands on a farm belonging to Mr. Wade, at Stiirton,
near the Roman road leading from Castleford to Aberford, a prayer-
meeting was held every Sunday morning and Monday evening.
These meetings were specially owned of God. The glory of the Lord
filled the place, and the power of God was present to wound and to
heal, to kill and to make alive. Two colliers, f men who gave them-
selves to prayer, were very successful instruments in the hand of the
Lord, in the conversion of scoi-es, if not of hundreds of persons, in the
course of the summer. Our late brother Hick took his full share in

* Lair — a Barn iu the West of Yorksliire dialect.

t One of these men was suiiported by the bounty of the late Mr. Broadliurst, of
Swinton, for the sole purpose of enabling him to devote his time to the visitation of
the sick, &c., and died lately at Manchester, where he had resided several years. His
brother WilUam, the other person alhuled to, married a person lielonginij to Tollin'-'tou,
a village about three miles from Suaith, Yorkshire, where he continued useful as
an exhorter and class-leader for a considerable length of time — ended his days in peace
about five years ago— and left a ^vidow and two or three children. They received the
ap])ellation of " Pyamnri Colliers." The one who resided at Manchester, and who was
personally known to the writer, was generally designated by the title of " Prayin<;r
Q«?orge." Their proper name — tho on*? hr which tboy were least known — was Moseley.

26 TTFE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

the work, and experienced a full share of the glory. Sabbath after
Sabbath the barn was filled with people ; the cries of penitence were
heard in different places, and were frequently Bucceeded by songs of
praise. The colliers were invited to the neighbouring villages, whither
friend Hick accompanied them in their work of faith and labour of
love. Often has he been heard to relate the conquests of redeeming
love, as witnessed in these journeys, from which he frequently re-
turned home rejoicing — rejoicing more than earthly conquerors, when
they find great spoil."

Under the general influence referred to, Samuel was led, as stated
above, to seek a further work of grace. At the midnight hour he
retired to this " ham," whose solitude was deepened by the season,
for private devotion. He bowed the knee in one of its unfrequented
nooks ; but before he had proceeded to oficr a petition to God, whom
alone he supposed to be present, he heard the voice of prayer in an
opposite corner. He paused — he listened — the shadows of night had
fallen too thickly around to permit him to see any one. Unexpected
as it was, it was the voice of melody to his ear; still he listened, and
at length he recognised the voice of Praying George, one of the
colliers, who was wrestling like Jacob, repeating again and again,
" Lord, wash my heart ; Lord, wash my heart ;" adding emphasis to
each repetition — elevating his voice as he rose in fervour — but as
little suspecting that he was heard by a fellow-creature, as Samuel
did that he should find any one in the place at such an hour. He
soon gave the response to George's prayer, who, in his turn, was sur-
prised to find that Samuel had stolen into the place for the same
purpose. They mingled their petitions and spirits together, and
increased each other's ardour. " I thought," said Samuel, " if the
Lord could wash George's heart, he could also wash mine ; and I was
fully convinced, that if George's heart wanted washing, mine required
it much more ; for I considered him far before me in divine grace."
He proceeded from the very first, on the principle, that " God is no
respecter of persons," and that, from the immutability of his nature,
the same power and goodness exercised in one case, could, and really
would, be exercised in another, where a compliance with the means
proposed to attain the end was observed.

He experienced much of the presence of God in prayer, but no
satisfactory evidence of the blessing which he sought. Having in all
probability remained in the same position for a great lengfth of time,
and having been earnest in his pleadings, he was so aHected and
enfeebled when he arose, that he was unable to stand erect, and was
obliged, as he expressed himself, "to walk home almost double." On
passing along one of the fields, he heard a sudden and "mighty rush"
over his head, as ho termed it, the sound of which lie compart'd to s

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 27

Urgo coTuj' of " pigeons," sweeping the air with their wings. Being
partially bent towards the ground, and the morning Hght not having
iawned upon the earth, he was unable to perceive anything, had any
appearance been visible. He started — but all was gone in an instant.
Having just come from the spot where he had been holding converse
with God, and linked as he was in spirit to the invisible world, it was
natural for him — whatever becomes of either the rationality or the
Christianity of the act — to direct his thoughts thither; and the
sound had but just passed, when it occurred to him, " This is the
prince of the power of the air." On reaching home, he named the
circumstance to his wife, who was still more struck with it, when, on
having occasion to go into the fields some hours afterwards, to milk
the cows, she heard the same noise* as described by Samuel, but saw
nothing from whence it could proceed.

Instead of retiring to rest, he spent the whole of the morning in
private prayer; and such was his distress — being, as he forcibly
expressed himself, " under deep conviction for holiness," — that he
could " neither eat, sleep, nor work." He continues, " I went
mourning and pleading the whole of the day and of that night, but
could find no rest to my soul. The next morning, about eight o'clock,
I knelt down upon the same flag on which God had pardoned my sins ;
and while I was pleading his promises, faith sprung up in my heart;
I found that the blood of Christ did indeed cleanse me from all sin.
I immediately leaped up from my knees. I seemed to have gotten
both a new body and a new soul. The former appeared like corkwood,
it was so light. I was clear in my sanctification. It was received by
faith in Christ. All was joy, peace, and love. My soul was constantly
mounting in a chariot of fire ; the world and the devil were under my
feet."

The martyrdom of spirit which Samuel experienced on the death
of the depravity of his nature, can only be understood by those who
have suffered on the same rack ; and there are not a few who have
suffered more because of indwelling sin, than under conviction of its
enormity and punishment, as was evidently the case with the subject
of this memoir. It is not difficult to explain this, except to the

♦ Though no anxiety is felt by the writer for his credit as an author, in giving
pubheity to this circumstauce ; and though he has no particular wish to give a super-
oatural character to it, he would, nevertheless, lend an attentive ear to the solution of
a few difficulties in which the subject is involved. The sound was heard by two persona
at distinct periods ; no appearance was visihle iu either case : — the sound was like that
of birds on the t«ing ; — the hour xoas iinscasonahle, in the first instoaice, for any birds to
be abroad, except the owl; — in the second instance, the night bird must have disap-
peared : — and what might have been invisible to Samuel, through the darkness of the
hour, ought to have been seen by his wife in the riioming light : — and on the supposi-
tion that the imagination of the fonner might have been a little affected, stiU the case
of the latter — a person of a much cooler temperament, and one who had not been
passing through the same nocturnal process -preserrcs the whole in its native forco.

ZO THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

" natural man," to whom every experimental subject is mysterious.
But to the purely enlightened it is well known, that the discipline
experienced in the school of repoutance, in which the " heavy laden"
sinner " labours" under an oppressive burden prior to his entering
into "rest" — into that first or freparatory state of repose, consequent
on his justification or discharge from guilt — is occasionally less severe
than the discipline which is afterwards exercised in the school of
Christ — into which school the penitent enters immediately on the
reception of pardon, and in which, prior to his reception of what the
poet styles "that second rest," he is taught to "learn" of Him who
was "meek and lowly in heart," and while under his tuition, has even
in that state, to bend the neck of his si)irit to the "yoke" which his
Divine Teacher imposes. Human nature is not made of sufficiently
tractable materials — has been too long accustomed to an improper
bias, to sit composed under the restraints of such a yohe, or instantly
to yield to its form and pressure. The workman called " the old
man," is hostile to all the works of " the new man ;" and will not
supinely give up his possessions. On the justification of a sinner,
peace, sweet peace, falls upon the soul, with the softness of flakes of
snow : and to persons of an imaginative mood, it is easy — barring
the coldness of the metaphor — to perceive the soul beautifully covered
with it, and shining in its external whiteness : but in the sanctifi-
cation of the spirit, the work goes deeper than the soul's surface.
And to change the metaphor, it is not till after a person's justification,
that God takes the lid from off the top of the sepulchre of the human
heart, and unfolds to view its hidden filth — the beholder, like an un-
amiable being looking at himself in a mirror, being startled at his
own appearance. The pain experienced in both states, though severe,
differs in its character, because produced by widely different causes.
Actual transfjression is the immediate cause of penitential distress, and
innate depravity that of a heliever's cjrlef — the one finding relief in an
act of pardoning mercy, and the other in a work of purifying grace;
or, in other words, both in the death of Jesus Christ, through the
merit of whose blood the guilt of sin is cancelled, and by the virtue of
whose blood the jyollution of the soul is cleansed — and that taint, if
snch nn expression may be allowed, is as painful and odious to the
iMilightened mind, as is its guilt to an awakened conscience. To the
woodman who wishes to eradicate, to have the ground perfectly
clear,' it is as mortifying to have the roots left in the earth, as to see
the free standing; and having cleft the one, he is tlie more .solicitous
to iiave the other plucked np, not only that he may not lose what he
has already wrought, but that he may prevent its again shooting
upwai-d, and by further growth producing still more pernicious fruit.
While the misery of a penitent i« to be found in the accusation of a

THB VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 29

guilty conscience, the believer's distress arises from a fear of falling —
an inward abhorrence of everything rising in the soul incompatible
with unsullied purity — an anxious desire after a full conformity to
the Divine image — an exquisitely constituted conscience, which is as
tender to the touch as the apple of the eye — the consciousness of still
possessing a heart prone to wander from the living God, and of a
nature upon which temptation, without great watchfulness, may still
operate to the ruin of the soul — a keener insight into the spirituality
of the sacred law — a quick-sightedness and frequent anticipations of
danger — the whole working the mind into a state of earnestness and
of agony to be " free from the yoke of inbred sin." In the latter state
there is no sense of guilt, nor consequently of the Divine displeasure,
and therefore no fear of punishment ; yet there is a continual loathing
of self; — "war in the members" — dying to Hve. All this appears to
have been known and felt by Samuel Hick, whose own statement
leads to the conclusion, that he suffered much more as a believer,
than as a penitent — in the union of which two characters the man of
God is made perfect.

After he had risen from his favourite " flag," for which he enter-
tained a kind of superstitious respect, and which was now rendered
"doubly dear," he walked forth some time in brightness. The
blessing of purity which he had received, was never lost through
actual transgression ; and although he was twice in a state of deep
distress respecting his evidence, it was soon regained by exercising
the same means, and an application to the same source, through
which it was first obtained. " He experienced it," says Mr. Dawson,
" upwards of thirty years — Hved and died in the full possession of its
excellencies. Oh, with what warmth, affection, and pathos, he used to
speak of his enjoying the perfect love of God in his heai-t ! — that love
which casts out tormenting fear, and strongly and sweetly constrains
the whole soul to engage in the whole will of God, as revealed in his
Word ! This love expanded his naturally affectionate heart, and his
bowels yearned for the salvation of his friends, his neighbours, and
the world."

30 THE VILLAGJi BLACKSMITH

CHAPTER IV.

Samuel'B public character — his call to speak in public — a dream — reproves a clergyman
—assists in prayer-meetings— visits Howden and other places— a remarkable cut-
pouring of the Spirit of God — his power in prayer — labours to be useful — suits hia
language and thoughts to the employment of persons addressed — a general plan
laid down for the spread of religion in the village of Garforth, Barwick, &c. —
Samuel received as a regular local preacher — his person — intellect — iufiueDce —
pecuharities — tenderness — language — style of preaching — an apology for hia
preaching.

TSvo things have contributed essentially to the spread of Wesleyan
Methodism : first, the adaptation of its rules and regulations to every
condition of riian ; and, secondly, the provision which its rules have
made for the encouragement and exercise of every description of talent.
Having risen out of circumstances, it accommodates itself to that
nature which is the same in every climate to which those circum-
stances belong; and it can furnish employment for all, from the
youth that lisps in prayer, to the eloquence of the pulpit — from the
Village Blacksmith to the man crowned with academical honours.
The system, under God, brought into exercise the powers possessed
by Samuel Hick, who has been heard to say, " I know that the Lord
has given me one talent, and I am resolved to use it. He has given
friend Dawson ten; but I am determined that he shall never run
away with my one." And to his honour it may be recorded, that he
made his one go much further in real interest to the cause of God,
than many with ten times the intellect and influence.

He apjiears to have exercised occasionally in public prior to the
revival of the work of God at Sturton Grange. Mr. Dawson remarks,
that " he first engaged in the prayer-meetings, and next spoke a word
by way of exhortation. The last was done like himself, and always
gained the attention of his hearers." Exclusive of a distinct impres-
sion upon his mind that it was his duty to call sinners to repentance,
he was not a little influenced by a di'cam which he had, and to which
he might be excused for paying the greater attention, as God em-
ployed a dream for the purpose of rousing him from spiritual slumber;
and more especially might he be excused, when revelation warrants
the belief, that " In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep
falleth upon men, in slumbers upon the bed : then" God "opencih
the ears of men, and sealetii their instruction." The substance of

THK VILLAGK BLACKs.MI ftl. 31

it was this: — He dreamed one uiglit that he set sail to the West
Indies in the character of a missionary, to preach the Gospel to the
poor negroes— that, on his landing, he saw a pulpit, the stairs of
which he ascended — and, on unfolding the leaves of the Bible, which
was laid before him, a perfect blank was presented to the eye. " A
pretty thing this," said he to himself ; " a Bible, and not a text in it! ''
He turned over the leaves again and aga n, and suddenly on one of
the white pages several beautiful gold letters sprung into form, and
dazzled his sight The words were, " Prepare ye the way of the
Lord," &c. These he announced as his text, and began to preach.
In the course of the sermon a poor woman was so affected while
intently listening to him, and gazing upon him, that she cried
aloud for mercy. He instantly quitted the pulpit, descended its
steps, directed his way to the penitent, prayed with her, and soon
had the unspeakable pleasure of hearing her proclaim the mercy of
God in the forgiveness of her sins. From this pleasing dream he
awoke ; and, under its warmest impression, exclaimed to his wife,
accosting her by name, " Matty, I believe I am called to preach the
Gospel." Martha, less awake to the subject than himself, requested
him to go to sleep again, not a little infidel in her principles respect-
ing it.

This relation was given in his own way, on a platform, at the first
Wesleyan Missionary Meeting held at Selby, November 16th, 1814,
before a crowded audience, when the writer of this memoir was
present, together with Mr. Dawson and others, and, for the first time,
was favoured with the sight of Samuel. The description of the vessel
in which he made his voyage, which is too ludicrous to appear among
graver associations — his suddenly turning to the pulpit, and pointing
to it as a model of the one in which he supposed himself to have
preached — the familiarity of some of his comparisons, his views rising
no higher, in reference to the gold characters, from his days having
been spent mostly in the country, than some of the more costly sign-
boards of the tradesman — his grotesque figure, and still more cha-
racteristic action, for the latter of which he was not a little indebted
to his trade, his arms being stretched out, with his hands locked in
each other, while he elevated and lowered them as though he had
been engaged at the anvil ; varying in his movements as he rose in
zeal and quickened in delivery, becoming more and more emphatic —
his tears — his smiles — his tenderness — his simplicity — the adroitness
with which he turned upon the text, the effects of the sermon, &c ,
to strengthen his call to the work— the manner in which he brought
the subject to bear upon the object of the meeting — and his offering
himself, in the fulness of his spirit, at the close, as a missionary,
telling the people that " heart was good," his " 'vealth was good "

32 THE VtLLAGB BLACKSMITH.

and his "appetite was good;" that he wanted not their money, but
would bear his own expenses ; and that, sustaining his own burden,
he should consider it, provided family connections would admit, the
highest honour that could be conferred upon him ; — the whole, in
short, produced, both upon the platform and among the people an
effect rarely witnessed, and a scene calculated to move on with the
memory, and live as a distinct picture in the imagination.

That he had other and more substantial proofs of his call to
exercise in public, there is no question ; but the above shows the
peculiar cast of his mind, and his attention to what was passing
within, whether asleep or awake, together with his readiness to con-
vert everything to pious purposes — manifesting, in innumerable
instances, stronger evidences oi fiety than oi judgment.

He regularly attended Micklefield Chapel of Ease, in which service
was performed about this time, once a fortnight on the Lord's-day,

by the Rev. T., of Monkfryston, a village about five miles distant.

Mr. T. had 10s. 6d. per day allowed him for his labour; but neither
exhibiting the morality of the Gospel in his life, nor preaching its
doctrines in the pulpit, denying the inspiration of the Spirit in his
sermons, after the people had been praying for it in the Liturgy;
Samuel took the liberty of addressing him on the subject one day,
as he was passing his door on his way to Fryston. " Sir," said he,
" I must tell you that you do not preach the Gospel. You say that
there has been no such thing as inspiration since the Apostles' days.
Your sermons contradict your prayers ; and I know by experience
that there is such a thing as inspiration." He added, " I have been
praying to my Lord either to convert you, that you may preach the
truth, or that He would send some one else to preach it ; and I fully
believe that He will not let you come here much longer." Mr. T. said
little in reply : and though Samuel's rebuke might be deemed a
compound of ignorance and impudence by those who knew him lea^t,
yet such was the event, that Mr. T. only preached in Micklefield
Church Chapel two or three times afterwards, and an evangelical
clergyman supplied for some time his place. The fact is simply
stated ; every reader may select and enjoy his own inference ; but
place Samuel's prayer out of the question, his fidelity — and this is
the chief design of the relation — is of more real value in the illus-
tration of character, than any conjecture aa to the cause of the
change.

In the earlier part of his public history, to which it is proper to
return, an extensive field of usefulness was laid before him, in the
lino which Providence apparently marked out for the " Praj'ing
Colliers," with whose labours his own were soon identified. Where-
ever he went, ho was popular and useful ; but his popularity was

THB VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 33

rather the result of atngularity, than drawn upon him by any pfinnh'ar
display of pulpit talent; while his usefulness was chiefly among
those of his own order — though he was highly respected by his
superiors in talent and in property. Not being as yet, however, a
regular accredited local preacher, remarks on his mental power, and
the character and style of his public addresses, must be reserved for
the period when he was fairly brought upon the Local Preachers'
Plan.

One of his earliest public excursions was into the Hull Circuit,
whither he was invited in company with the " Colliers," and from
the outskirts of which no less than seven horses were sent to carry
them and their colleagues to the first scene of labour — Spaldington
Outside, where they were met by the Eev. James Wood, the supei
intendent;— a pilgrimage this, which, while it might have furnishe
Chaucer with an episode for his " Canterbury Tales," would have
greatly enhanced their devotional character. Samuel was in the full
enjoyment of the heaven which the witness of his sanctification had
imparted, and was ready to conclude, as he observed, that " the
enemy of souls was dead," because he himself " was dead to sin ; "
but he found that he was only entering the field of battle ; rejoicing,
meanwhile, that he " was provided with the whole armour of God."

Mr. Wood, whose judgment, gravity, and experience would operate
as a suitable check to the ebulliency of spirit of these revivalists,
accompanied them to several places. Howden was the first place at
which an extraordinary influence of the Holy Spirit was manifested;
and was especially felt at a prayer-meeting, in the awakening of
sinners, many of whom, as Samuel observed, "cried out like the
slain in battle." Several of the old members, offended with the noise,
left the chapel. " They could not stand this," said Samuel ; adding,
in his peculiar turn of thought, " It was a mercy they went out ; for
it rid the place of a deal of unbelief, which they took away -with
them." Previously to leaving the chapel himself, he had a rencounter
with one of his own trade, a genuine son of Vulcan, who might have
been drawn to the spot from what he had heard of the Village Black-
smith. Samuel was pressing home, by personal appeal, the subject
of experimental religion upon an old man, when the person referred
to came up to him, and requested him to let the old man alone,
declaring him to be exceeded by no one in the town for honesty, and
affirming his belief that he would go to heaven when he died. Samuel
brought him to the test of "sin forgiven ;" stating, if he knew not
this, he doubted of his safety. His opponent immediately fired,
telling him, if he said so again, he would "fell" liim. Tliis was
language which Samuel would not have brooked on the day he heard
Mr. Burdsall, at York, without the metal of his own temper being

D

34 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

heated to the same temperature with that of the person who stood
before him; but he was now another man, and found with other
weapons. He replied with undaunted brow, " I have no fear of that :
if you lift your hand up, I believe you will not get it down again."
So saying, he dropjied upon his knees, and began to pray for the
man, who, apparently afraid lest the prayer should turn xxpon judg-
ment rather than m^rcij, made a precipitate flight.

After the service was closed, he went to the house of Mr. Ward, a
local preacher, where he was invited to spend the night. The good
lady of the house, being of the Baptist persuasion, was less prepared
than her husband for the feverish agitation attendant on some of
the prayer-meetings, and agreeably to her own views, lectured Samuel
on the subject, declaring that he and his associates were destroying
the work of God, and that they made the house of God a house
of confusion ; warmly recommending decency and order. " Confu-
sion !" he exclaimed ; " I believe there was such confusion and great
confusion, too, on the day of Pentecost." But it was not for him to
stand and reason the case with her, however competent to the task ;
he therefore adopted his " short and easy method" of settling dis-
putes, by going to prayer ; " for I thought," said he, " she and I
should agree best upon our knees." He there pouredforth his petitions
with great simplicity and fervour for her and for the family. When
he arose, she affectionately took him by the hand, which, to him, wae
the right hand of fellowship. On finding another spirit in her, he
told her that in most revivals of religion, " three sorts of work" might
be recognised — " the work of God, the work of man, and the work of
the devil ;" stating that when the two latter were destroyed, the first
would stand; and that we should be careful not to injure the one in
suppressing the other. The good lady was so completely overcome
by the sincerity and simplicity of his intentions, his spirit, and his
manners, that she made it her study to render his stay as agreeable
as possible, by heaping upon him every social comfort. His mode of
conducting a discussion, or more properly, of terminating one, was
the best adapted to his own case, and might be safely recommended
in nine instances out of every ten, where the best side of a question is
entertained with the worst arguments for its support ; for, certainly,
a question is not to be decided by the merits of the person who takes
it up : and the best of causes may have the feeblest advocates.

The next day the party went to Spaldington Outside, at which
place a gentleman of the name of Bell then resided ; and such was the
concourse of people collected together from neighbouring and distant
parts, that no building coiild be found large enough to accommodate
them. The horses of those that rode were tied to the gates and
hedges — giving the distant appeaiancc of a troop of cavalry —and the

THB VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 3S

cnmpany divided themselves into two distinct bands, and occnpir-d
two large barns. In the barn originally intended for the mooting,
a temporary platform was erected for the accommodation of the
prayer-leaders, exhorters, and more respectable portion of the female
part of the auditory. The latter, in the estimation of Samuel, were
mere spectators of the work of God upon others. The influence, how-
ever, becoming more general, one of these, under deep awakenings of
soul, cried aloud for mercy; and, as though determined to be avenged
of her besetting sin, her love of finery, she made a sacrifice of part of
her adornings upon the spot, by throwing them among the poorer
people below. "With the exception of two or three extravagances —
the absence of which had been more remarkable than their manifes-
tations, and which are subjects of^ forbearance rather than a^iprovul,
in all such cases — the meeting was attended with great good.

It was on one of his religious excursions, that he attended a
prayer-meeting till late at night. A young female was in deep dis-
tress, at the time that the blessing was pronounced. " You are not
going to leave, Sammy," said a friend, " when a soul is seeking for
pardon." To this, Samuel promptly replied, " Bless thee ham, leave
her, she will serve as a match to kindle the fire with to-morrow
night." He comprehended others in his views than the penitent in
question, and would be no less in earnest for her at a throne of
grace.

From this place they proceeded to Newport, where several persons
were convinced of sin, and others found peace with God ; the service
continued till midnight : Mr. James Wood conducted the meeting,
which was distinguished by great decorum. Instead of going to Hull
the succeeding day, as previously arranged, Samuel was obliged to
return home. But it was of no importance where he was : on the
road, in his shop, in the field, he was ceaseless in his attempts to
benefit those who came in his way.

Journeying homeward, he saw a young man sowing seed in a field,
whom he accosted in his usually abrupt, yet afiectionate manner : —
" You seem in earnest. Have you had time to water your seed ? "
" No," returned the sower ; " we never water this kind of seed : it it
wheat, not rye, that we steep, and sprinkle with lime." Samuel had
another object in view, and said, " That is not what I want to be at :
liave you been on your knees this morning, praying to God to give
His blessing to the seed ? " This instantly brought the charge of
Methodism upon him. " Oh, you are a Methodist ! If you had been
at our church yesterday, you would have heard our parson give them
their character." " You had a poor errand there," was the reply ;
" if the Methodists are wrong, you ought to pray for them to be set
right." It was in this way that he was constantly scattering: seed —

D 2

^ TTTE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

not always sTcilfulJy, yet often seasonably; for there were many
instances of its falling into good ground.

He did not always escape with the same triumphant feeling as
that with which he withdrew from the sower just noticed, in his
attempts at usefulness. Though his knowledge was limited within very
narrow bounds, yet, as far as it extended, his sense of propriety always
led him to delight in seeing any employment attended to in a workman-
like manner. On another occasion, he perceived a youth turning up
a piece of land with the plough. His patience, which was occasionally
one of his most vulnerable parts, being a little touched with the
carelessness and awkwardness of the lad, he shouted out, as he
paused a moment to look at him, " How dare you attempt to plough
my Lord's land in that way ? " proceeding to give him some
directions, when he was stopped short by him — thus showing not
only his quickness in comprehending Samuel's allusion to the
Divine Proprietor, but his smartness in so promptly meeting him in
his own character, — " I am turning up a bowling-green for the dtvil ; "
intimating as much as though anything done, and in any way, was
good enough for the purpose to which the ground was to be devoted.
This was so much relished by Samuel, that the notions of agricultural
propriety which were fluttering in his imagination, and to which he
was about to give utterance, broke up like a congregation of swallows
in autumn — took instant flight, only to return with the appearance of
the plough in the ensuing spring; as did also all the moral lessons
which he intended to found on the occupation in which the lad was
engaged.

Another field of labour opened to him after this period, more
regular and permanent in its character, and much more accommo-
dating to his circumstances. "About the year 1797," says Mr.
Dawson, "a plan was laid down to engage the talents of all the
prayer-leaders and exhorters in the villages of Garforth, Barwick,
Kippax, and Micklefield, together with other places in the vicinity ;
all of whom were to be united, and to itinerate through the whole
neighbourhood. Brother Hick very readily agreed to have his name
entered upon the plan, and having a horse at command, he could go
to the most distant places without difliculty. He attended promptly
and conscientiously to his appointments, so long as the union existed;
and it was this plan that brought him to the notice of many persons
who otherwise would not have been acquainted with him, and laid
the foundation of his future and more extended usefulness. After
this, his name was placed upon the regular Loca.1 Preacher's Plan, of
the Pontefract Circuit, the places of which he supplied with pleasure
to himself, and profit to the people, to whom he recommended the
person and salviition of Jesus Christ. When Micklefield was taken

TUB VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 87

into the Selby Circuit, his name was inserted in the Plan of the Local
Preachers belonging to that circuit ; but residing on the borders of
the Selby and Pontefract Circuits, his name stood on both plans."

In reference to the last particular, Mr. Dawson proceeds, "I
remember calling upon him one day, when he observed, that his time
was pretty well filled up, saying, ' You see I have my name upon
both Pontefract and Selby Plans ; ' emphatically adding, ' there is no
living with half luorh.' " It was his " meat and drink," like Him
" who went about doing good," to do the will of his Father ; and in
the execution of that will he alone could live.*

The first time he ventured to take a text, was in a school-room at
Aberford, his native place; and it was the one with which he was
dazzled in his dream. The room was crowded ; and it is probable
that the success of this, and a few similar attempts, might have led
the way for the insertion of his name on the plan among exhorters.
That the attempt was prior to such insertion, is likely from the
fact of the person belonging to the school-room having joined the
Methodist New Connexion, soon after the division, on the event
of which there would be but little disposition to grant the loan of
the place, owing to the state of party feeling, which was then at the
highest point of elevation. He had large congregations in those
days ; and when he had no regular appointment, he very often, in
company with his friend William Brandfoot, travelled from ten to
fifteen miles to a love-feast ; an example, by the way, which is not much
to be commended, and which becomes criminal — though far from the
case with Samuel — when persons give the preference to a love-feast
in the country, and turn their backs on the Sacrament of the Lord's
Supper in town, near their own door.

Being now fairly before the public, it is desirable that a distinct
image of the man should be put into the possession of the reader,
that he may have a more correct conception of the personage with
whom he passes along, instead of being in the presence of a kind of
invisible agent, with whom he is permitted to converse in the dark,
till the writer, in the usual biographical mode, and as though his pen
had been previously employed on some other person, is pleased to
unveil his subject at the close of his work, in the exhibition of a
summary sketch of his character. The subject of this memoir may
be considered at this period, as possessing that which, in the general
acceptation of the term, properly constitutes character, and that too,

• It was couBiderably siibsequeut to the period of 1797, wlieu the general Plan was
made, which associated the prayer-leaders with the exhorters. One of Samuel's
coutemporaries thinks it was not till 1803, that he was resfularly admitted on the
Plan, though he had addressed public assemblies from the time stated as above.
Prior to 1807, the plans of the Pontefract Circuit wore written; after that, they weie
printed. Selby became the head of a -ircuit in 1812.

38 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

perfectly distinct in itself. Instead, therefore, of throwing the mind
of the reader bach, at the close of the book, upon that which has
grown out of character, and not character from it, he must carry
foi-ward with him a distinct recollection of the man, through which
he will be the better prepared for all that may follow, as well as to
judge of the likeness given — the one proceeding from the other, like
the tree from the root, the bough from the stem, and the fruit from
the minor branches; just as character gives rise to circumstances,
and circumstances beoome the medium through which the tempers
of the mind and disposition of the heart are manifested — unfolding
themselves to others, either as wholesome or pernicious fruit.

There was but little that might be deemed prepossessing in his
person. He was tall and bony, rising to the height of about six feet.
Hard labour, and the nature of his emiiloymcnt — lowering one arm
with the iron, and raising the other with the hammer, while he
stooped at the anvil — gave a roundness to the upper part of his back,
and a slight elevation of his right shoulder. His hair was naturally
light — his complexion fair — his face full, but more inclined to the oval
than the round — and his general features small, with a soft, quick,
blue-grey, twinkling eye, partaking of the character of his mind,
twinkling in thought, and sending out occasional and inexpressible
natural beauties, like streaks of sunshine between otherwise darkly
rolling clouds.

His tnind was peculiarly constructed, and had all tho effect in
preaching and in conversation, of an intellect broken into fragments
— not shining forth as a whole, like the sun diffusing light and day ;
but the scattered portions shining separately, like the stars in the
heavens ; and these too not silently and slowly stealing out, one by
one, but suddenly breaking upon the eye in numbers, and from
unexpected quarters, some of them but indistinctly visible, and
others as lovely as Venus in all her glory. He appeared utterly
incapable of classifying his thoughts ;* and it is doubted by tho

• In the more lengthened extracts given from his papers, the writer has occo-
Bionally taken the liberty of transposing some of the thoughts, for tho sake of
preserving something like unity and order ; attending, at the same time, with the
strictest scrupulosity, to the sense intended to be conveyed to tlio reader. Samuel wa«
not altogether ignorant of the character and extent of his iutcllectual powers, any
more than of his moral condition. Speaking of him to Dr. A. Clarke oneo, tho writer
found that Samuel had visited him at his residence, Haydcn Hall, near Pinner,
Middlesex, into the ncighl>ourhooJ of which tho Doctor scut him to conduct a
religious meeting, with a view to commuuioatc, under God, a quickeuing iulluouco to
ihe people, for which, as an instrument, he wius tolerably calculatA^'d. Tho Doctor had
met him at BirsUiU, in Yorkshire, prior to this period ; and related with a degree of
pleasantry— for it was impossible for tho most grave to relate some of his conversation
without a slight contortion of the facial nerve— his first interview with him. Samuel,
with bis usual openness and simplicity, covered with smiles, stepped quickly up to the
Doctor— •hook hands with him— and after a few words, artlessly procee<Iod thua :—

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMIXn. 89

writer, whether any mode of mental discipline which could have been
adopted, even in youth, would have reduced his then comj)aratively
chaotic mind to order ; and equally doubtful, whether any society,
with such a peculiarly constituted mind, would have given ease and
grace, or polish to his manners. Yet rude, or perhaps, more
properly, unwieldy, as were the latter, there was nothing to offend ;
for while persons in the middle ranks of life were not at a sufficient
remove from him to form a contrast, those in the higher walks of
society were instantly arrested by an undefinable something about
him, which taught them that that which might not comport with
good taste, was, nevertheless, that which ought to be borne ; and by
an impression in his favour, which would instantly compel every
high-wrought feeling, and all etiquette, to bow before the untutored
blacksmith — entering, before he was long in their presence, into the
real enjoyment of his society and conversation, and delightedly
embracing opportunities for again holding converse with hira. To
persons in the polished circles it was a relief to the mind to be with
him — one of those novel scenes but occasionally met with in the
landscape of life. Instead of the dull, monotonous plain, whose
richest garb becomes common-place by constantly gazing upon it,
in Samuel it was like broken rocks, wood, and water; a piece of
moor-land, with patches of rich soil beneath the heath, with here and
there a flower of surpassing beauty springing up in the midst of the
wilderness scene ; the whole contributing to show the effect of grace
upon nature — and a nature, too, which, without that grace, could
never have been subdued into anything like decorum or sobriety.
This might appear to some, and may not improbably be subjected to
the charge, as partaking a little too much of the pencil and colouring
of the artist ; as permitting, in the real character of romance, the
imagination to be let loose upon a subject which ought to commaml
the graver exercise of reason. The fact is — for not anything shall In;
permitted to operate to the suppression of truth, and the Christianii y
of the case has nothing to fear in the way of consequence — the fact
is, that such a man, and such a life might — and it is penned with
reverence — might, without the aid of imagination, without any art or
exaggeration, form the ground-work of a lighter exhibition, say — a
farce to the awfully solemn, and splendid representation of the
Christian religion. But then, religion had nothing to do in the

" You can got through with preaching' better than me : I cannot bear to be
disturl)ed : I have but one idea, you see, and if I lose that, why, I have then no more
to go to : but 3'ou, Sir, have so many nJca.s ; so that if j-ou were to lose one, you
could i)ick up another by the way, and go ou with it." By " one idea," he meant the
leading thought ou which he intended to dwell. Wliile the relation assists in the
illustration of intellectual character, it shows also the desolation which sometimes
appcarud to himself, occasioned by a waut uf reading, when he turned his eye Inward.

40 tll£ VltLAGt; CLACK-sMlTfr.

construction of the man's mind — a mind more nearly allied to the
comic than the tragic- in its operations ; and whose effects, though
perfectly undesigned on the part of the actor, laid a more powerful
hold upon the lighter than the graver feelings. Christianity took
the man as it found him, and performed upon him its grand work,
which is not to change the construction of the mind so much as its
nature; to effect, in other words, its illumination and renovation ;
nor is it requisite, to compare temporal things with spiritual, in
cleansing a buUding, to change the position of either a door or a
window. The grace of God was observed to lay a strong hand upon
an otherwise untractable nature — making light shine into darkness,
as well as out of it — straightening the crookedness of fallen humanity
— planting flowers where nothing but the rankest weeds would have
grown — forcing, by an irresistible power, an untaught, and, in some
respects, though not in the strongest sense, an uncouth being, upon
society, and compelling the wisdom, the wealth, the dignity of this
world to bow before that being — one, who without the grace of God,
would have been in danger of being despised, and yet the despisers,
through that giace, acknowledging the power of the Supreme in a
thing of nought.

This is not a subject slightly to be dismissed. Samuel Hick was
untaught in the sclwol of this world: art would have been lost upon
him ; he was one upon whom education and polished society, as
already hinted, could never have had their full effect ; he seemed
formed by Nature, as well as designed by Providence, for the forge :
and not anything short of the grace of God appears to have been
capable of constructing moie than a blacksmith out of the materials
of which he was composed. It was never intended that the hand ol
a Phidias should work upon him. Such was the peculiar vein, —
though excellent in itself, — that it would never have paid for the
labour. No man, with greater self-approbation — not even the
Apostle himself — could exclaim, " By the grace of God I am what I
am ; " or with the poet, " 0, to grace how great a debtor ! "

Not anything, however, that has been advanced on his mental
endowments and cajjabilities, and as ajiplicablc to him as a fallen
being, in common with others of the same species, is intended in the
Icaat to deny him the credit of possessing great openness of dis-
position, and unbounded generosity. The latter was expressed, not
always gracffitllij, but honestlij and u'armly ; and like the soa
anemone, which feels the first returning wave upon the rock, and
throws out all its tendrils, his tender nature would give forth all its
sympathies on the slightest intimation of human woe. United to
unconiuion tenderness of heart, there was a sincerity and simplicity
which no one could resist, which linked him with every spirit he

TILE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 41

came near, and which, — while his own yearnings led him to weep
over distress, to seek it out in all its haunts, and to relieve it to the
leaving of himself penniless, — ever secured him fellow-helpers in any-
projected work of benevolence. And yet, with his own bowels of
compassion thus yearning over human misery — misery both of body
and of mind — his eyes suffused with tears, and his face beaming with
patriarchal benevolence, melting the hearts of those that stood before
him, who mingled their tears with his, — it was impossible — such
were the outbreakings of intellect, such the sudden transitions of
thought, such his similes for illustration, such his pecuUar mode of
expression, his half solemn, half comic or undesignedly ludicrous
representations — it was impossible to suppress the smile ; and smiles
would have been actually flickering, like patches of light, over the
same face down which the big gushing tears were seen chasing each
other in rapid succession. Before many seconds had elapsed, all
smiles had subsided, and the listener was left almost angry with
himself for indulging in them, when he was aware that the speaker
never intended them to appear in company with tears on such an
occasion and on such a subject.

In preaching, as in conversation, he was never at " one stay," in
reference to subject ; but ever and anon there were fine strokes of
wit, touches of keen repartee in his addresses to sinners, and occa-
sional beautiful illustrations of Scripture, turning often upon a single
thought capable of furnishing liints for superior minds and better
thinking, not only by being themselves im.proved in the laboratory
of the brain, but by leading to another and still nobler train of
thought, which might ultimately enrich the individual, and which —
except for having thus been struck out by Samuel, like a spark from
his own anvil — would never have been elicited by long and previous
study. In this way, inferior minds often become steps by which
superior intellects attain a higher character of thought. To the
uninstructed and depressed, his preaching was especially adapted :
and by bringing a great deal of what was familiar to the lower orders
of society into his addresses, he was extensively useful in encou-
raging and raising the minds of the humbler poor, who could
indulge with a relish in such food as he had to give, without satiety ;
when more costly and highly decorated dishes would have been much
less savoury. Not a few of his strokes in the jjuljjit, were as sudden
as those which were manifested in his regular calling, when sparks as
profusely seemed to flj' all round, warming and enlightening, and
bidding the profanely heedless stand out of the way.

His language in the pulpit was the same as in social life — the
broadest, and yet, as has been already intimated, most closely ahbre-
vlated West Yorkshire dialect; the former giving a fulness and

♦2 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

quaintncss to many of his intellectual clothings; and the latter
operating, to use a homely simile, like a pair of scissors in the organs
of speech, clipping a piece from off each word, and not unfrequenily
from the same word at both ends.* This, to a Yorkshireman, and
particularly one of the least educated, gave Samuel an advantage
over many of his brethren — ^he always appearing to such an one like
an instrument in tune : but, to another than a Yorkshire ear, the
instrument gave an "uncertain sound" — the sense being to be
gathered, not from detached parts, but from the whole ; and, as his
speech was rather rapid, his preaching, to persons unacquainted with
his provincialism and pronunciation, had the effect of a broken
English from the lips of a foreigner, where attention is constantly
kept up, in order to come at the sense of the speaker, and where the
interest continues to heighten in proportion as we are let into the
meaning of what is heard. To keep perfectly grave through one of

• The ^vT-iter had it once in contemplation to give the whole of Samuel's remarks
in the dialect in which he spoke. But thonfrh this would have given greater pro-
minence to his character, it might have diminished the effect wliich it was otherwise
desirable to produce. Nor is it necessary for ijurposes of accuracy to give a mnu's
fironunciation in the uords he employs. Fidelity in such a case would be as absurd as
unnecessary, since it would require every i)iece of biography to vary according to its
subject, from the peer to the peasant. An ingenious apology therefore might bo
framed for honest Samuel, from Walker's or any other Pronouncing Dictionary, in
which the e;'e and the ear are almost perpetually at variance with each other, in the
difference which subsists between the spelling and the pronunciation of the same word ;
and also in the fluctuations in the same language among the same people, at different
periods of time. A few words from the Vocabulary of the deceased, which the reader
wiU find in a Glossary at the end of the volume, as exemplified in his papers, drawn
from his conversations, ic, wiU furnish a correct conception ot his language, and will
support a remark made in a preceding page. As the langtiage cannot operate in a
reflection upon Samuel in any other way than that in which the whole of the lower
grades in society, in the West of Yorksliire, are participators : and as the inhabitants of
iliffereut portions of the island arc not exempt fi-om conversational i>eciiliarities and
provincialisms, one county or district is as much entit'ed to the laugh as the other, and
also to forbearance. The following specimen of the English Uiuguivge, in a letter of
Eobei-t Watcrton to King Henry V., 1420, dated from Methley, where the king had
his lodge, and where Samuel, some centuries afterwards moved, convened, and iu a
few instances, trenched on the very same pronunciation with the worthy letter-writer,
will be a curiosity to some readers : —

" Os (as) I have conceyvid by zour ri^'ht honourable lettres wrytin at zonr Cytoe,
the which I have recyvid right late sytli Pask (Easter) with otliir zour lettres uudir
zour Prjve Scale, charging me to assaye by all the menese (means) that I kan toexcyte
and stirre sych as bene able gintleman wylhin the shyrc and contree that I dwell in, to
kome (come) ovyr to zour at zour Wage, armyd and wradc as langs (belongs) to lliaipj
astate, to do zowe servyce, and for to ccrtifie als well to zowe at zower CounsoU of
thaire answare and thaire will, the whych zour hegh comnundmcnt I have byguue to
labour apon and sail trcwely forthe (further) dayly wyth all my mypht till I have
perfonrmcd zour forsnyd comanndment. And upon Wednysdaye next sail zour Justice
eittc at '/.ork (York) apon the deliverance of the Goale there and a Cession of the
Pees (Peace) also, at which tymc I sujijifiKe to speke with many of the gontyls there,
and als Kone aftyr as I mays be oubwcred I sail ccrtitie os zowv base lyked tocnuiaunde
me, wyth all the haste, 4c. Writin at zour awue logge of Molln.leye the xii daye of
April zour trewe Ui^re man and iubgi'te, tc." See " KUis'p OrigiuiJ Letter*,"
• ol. i., p. 6.

lUE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. i'S

his Diilpit addresses was extremely difficult; yet the most grave
found it impossible to be angry, because they saw at once there was
no design to produce a smile on the part of the speaker, and that he
seemed unconscious of its presence while there. It resolved itself
into a peculiarity rather than a fault — an imperfection in the medium
of communication, rather than a sin in the first instance, in the man ;
and hence the line of forbearance — forgiveness being uncalled for —
ran parallel with the failing or infirmity.

To advocate, in unqualified terms of approbation, the establish-
ment of such a style of preaching, would argue as little taste, judg-
ment, skill in Christianity, and knowledge of human nature, as it
would, in another view of the subject, have been criminal to deny such
a man opportunities of usefulness, since numbers might have remained
imbenefited to the same extent by more highly polished instruments.
The Divine Being, who found a place in the Old Testament Church
for the employment of one of the herdmen of Tekoa, and in the New
for the fishermen of Galilee, and a tent-maher of Tarsus,* has certainly

* The writer is aware that it was customary for the higher ranks in society among
the Jews, as well as the poor, to teach their childi-eu a trade ; it being a maxim among
theip, that "he who teaches not his son a trade, teaches him to be a thief," and that
one cf the Jewish Rabbis was sumamed the Shoemaker, another the Baker, &c. : nor
is he less aware that it constituted a part of the education of others of the Easterns,
and was practised down to the time of Sir Paul Ricaut ; the Grand Seignor, to whom
he was ambassador, having been taught to make wooden spooivs^taught not only as an
amusement, but as necessary to support life under adverse circumstances, or any ul-
ex|>ectcd change of fortune ; and he may be told from hence, that the mechanical arts
thus connecting themselves, not only with rank, but with the literature of the tiuies,
ought not to be adduced as a precedent to support the modem custom of granting
mechanics a Uceuse to preach the Gospel. There are two class s of objectoi-s, and
those who are not met by one example receive a check from another. Some persons
contend for a systematic, cLissical education, and condemn the smallest interference
with the arts, as though they either lowered the dignity or- contaminated the purity
of the priesthood. Such are referred to the case of St. Paid, who, after his consecra-
tion to the priest's office, was not ashamed to labour with his own hands. The second
claes of objectors includes such as would tolerate a literary character, but persist in
maintaining that the illiterate mechanic has no right to assume the office of a Christian
teacher. These are directed to the case of Peter— Peter, who could not boast of a
classical education, and yet, under the tuition of the Holy Ghost, could speak of
"uTileamed" men uiesfing the Scripture* to their own destruction, cstablishiug by that
ft (;laim to another kind of learning from th;it which is taught in our public schools^
without wliich a man may be a novice in the things of God, and with wliich the unlettered
plebeian rises, in Church affairs, superior to the most erudite, who is otherwise <iu-
echooled in the experimental verities of Christiiinity. It is not a little singular, tli;it
among some of the persons who object to receive iustruction horn the lips of a poor
mechanic, there are those who can see no impropriety in a clergyman atteuditg to ii's
glebe through the week. lu "A Charge delivered to the Clergy of the Deaneries it
Richmond and Catterick, within the Diocosc of Chester, on Thureday, July 4, 1816,
by John Ueadlam, A.M., Rector of Wychfl', and Deputy-Commissary of the Arch-
deaconry of Richmond," agriciillural pursuits are highly recommended to the Clerg-y.
Since then, Mr. Headlam has been elevated to the dignity of an archdeacon, ami one of
the clerical agricidturalists in the neighbourhood died in a state of insolvency. This c&se
— should a second edition of the sermon be demanded — ought to lead Mr. Headlam to
reconsider the paragraph in which the advice is given. Though such failure nuKht
ke urged as a caution against ministers ahcidj' Bvt apart for the sacred office r^^rin?

14 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

not altered the constitution of His Church so seriously, as to deny
the mechanic an official situation in it now. He who divided public
teachers of old into different classes, giving " some apostles ; and
Bome frophets ; and some evanrjelists ; and some pastors and teachers"
— not despising the humbler office of an cxhorter — does not now surely
find human nature in such a delightfully improved state, as to render
exhortation useless. He who required the use of from one to ten
talents, in the days of His flesh, does not find the highest number
multiplying so fast, certainly, that He cannot, in the order of His
providence, and in the government of His Church, furnish employ-
ment to persons possessed of only one or two. Such a ministrj- owned
of God — and He has deigned to own it — ought to be hwne by the
more highly gifted and cultivated, for the sahe of the poor, to thou-
sands of whom the preaching of the Village Blacksmith, and others
as unlettered as himself, has been of essential service. It may, occa-
sionally, produce the blush of learning ; but in doing this, piety, at
the same moment, is, perhaps, compelled to blush at the very life
which some of the literati lead : and thus blushers are blushed at m
their turn; for what in the one is criminal, in the other is an infir-
mity: and to see such as in the eye of learning appear halt, and
maimed, and infirm, rise in arms against the common enemy of man,
argues, at least, as in civil afiairs, a nobler public spirit — a higher
degree of patriotism — than is possessed by persons of superior ahilit]],
who remain inactive, and who ought to be led on, by a sense of duty,
to labour for the public good. The moment it is established as a
truth, "God hath" not "chosen the foolish things of the world to
confound the wise, and weak things of the world to confound the
things which are mighty;" that very moment a substantial plea is
instituted against tlie preaching of Samuel Hick.

into the business of the world, who possess a competency of personal property, or are
otherwise respectably supported by their separate charges, or as by law established ;
it could not be eo enccessfully urged against men already engaged in commercial
pursuits, who received their call in the midst of such pursuits,— who, from various
causes, may Ije prevented from devoting themselves exclusively to the work,— who toil,
like Samuel Hick, without salary — and who have no other way of supporting tbcrasclve*
And their fauiilifjs but by manual or other labour.

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

45

CHAPTER V.

nia diligence — the ligiit iu which he beheld mauliiud — the substance of a conveisalion
held with Earl Mexborough— his views of the Bible — proofs in favour of the
doctrine of future rewards and punishments — his visit to the seat of Earl Mex-
borough— a point of conscience — a painting — fidelity in reproving sin, at the hazard
of being injured in his trade — the miUeunium dexterously hitched in, as a check to
pleasure-takers — three hunting ecclesiastics rendered the subject of merriment
among the titled laity — ministerial fruit a proof of the power of tnith, not of a
call to preach it — duty on saddled horses viewed as a hardship — Samuel's more
oxtended labours^privations — persecutions — a poor widow — a conquest over bigotry
at Ledsham.

Being now recognised as a regular local preacher, Samuel conscien-
tiously attended to his various apiDointments, though he was far from
parsimoniously confining himself to them, as if duty proceeded no
further than the limits prescribed to him by his brethren. His zeal
was not to be bounded by the appointments of a plan. He observed
his appointments as he did his regular seascms for private grayer —
as duties to be performed — not to be neglected but with peril — and
attended to with delight ; but extra work was like a special season
for retirement — something out of the regular track, and was enjoyed
by him as children revel in the enjoyment of a holiday. In the
Church of Rome he would have been considered wealthy in works of
supererogation. He imitated, on a miniature scale, the great Apostle
of the Gentiles, and was " in labours more abundant : " and why ?
He was in his Master's worh, as St. John was in his Lord's Sahhatli —
" in the Spirit," and in the spirit of the thing itself, too, he was always
found.

His zeal, however, as has already appeared, was not a mere
crackling blaze in the pulpit. His workshop was his chapel ; and
many were the homilies which he delivered over the anvil and over
the vice, to both rich and poor. In this he was no respecter of
persons. He looked upon every human being as possessed of an
immortal spirit — depraved by nature — redeemed by Christ — within
the reach of mercy — and himself as accountable to God for the
improvement or non-improvement of opportunities of usefulness to
them : and hence, to repeat his own language, he " was always at
them," because always yearning over them in melting compassion.
Adverting to the more early part of his history, he observes, " At
this time I feared no man, but loved all ; ior I wanted all to enjoy

W THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

what I felt. 1 remember Lord Mexborough calling at my shop, one
day, to get his horse shod. The horse was a fine animal. I had to
back him into the smithy. I told his lordship that he was more
highly favoured than our Saviour, for he had only an ass to ride on,
when he was upon earth." The Earl, suspecting that Samuel was
not very well instructed in natural history, replied, " In the country
where our Saviour was born, the people had rarely anything but
asses to ride upon; and many of them were among the finest animals
under heaven, standing from sixteen to seventeen hands high."
This information was new ; and as grateful, apparently, for the
improved condition of his Divine Master, as for an increase of
knowledge, Samuel exclaimed, " Bless the Lord ! I am glad to hear
that ; I thought they were like the asses in our own country."
Samuel's simplicity might excite a smile ; but there were other
biblical subjects which gave him a superiority over many of his more
learned fellow-creatures. The Bible was better known to him as a
revelation of God, on subjects of a spiritual and experimental nature,
than as a historical record.*

\Vhile Samuel was engaged with the horse, the Earl, says he,
" sat down on the steady log," and with great condescension and
familiarity, entered into conversation with him. " I am inclined to
think, my good man," said the noble visitant, "that you know
something of futurity. Pray, what becomes of the soul when it
leaves the body?" As Samuel had no doubt of the divine authority
of the Scriptures himself, he took it for granted more from the
strength of his own faith, than presuming upon it out of courtesy, as
St. Paul might have done in the case of Agrippa, when there was no
evidence to the contrary — that the Earl was also a believer in their
truth, and proceeded to state, that, in times of old, " there was a
certain rich man, which was clothed in purple and fine linen, and
fared sumptuously every day — that this man died, and was buried —
that, though the body was committed to the dust, the soul was sent
to hell — that both would remain till the morning of the resurrection
— and that, at that period, the liodj' and the soul, which had shared
in each other's wickedness, should also share in the miseries of the

• It 'iB stated that Dr. Doddridge, while engaged with his Expositor, was in the
habit of consulting one of the old members of his church on those texts of Scriptui-e
which coutaiu in them the heights and depths of Christian experience — conduct
equally complimentary to the Doctor's condescension and the venerable man's piety.
The Doctor, though a pious man himself, knew that experimental religion was i>ii>.
'jre*give in its character and operations, and beheld his hoary auditor ns having many
years the advance of him— beheld him like mellow fruit, ready to drop off, or to be
plucked for heaven. He was aware, that he himself wanted age and sunning for
■everal pa.Hsages; and although he broui;lit all the experience he posse.osed to bear
upon them, he su.specto'i tliire w.is sonulliiiig boyund. To his own head, he required
the advantage of the old man's heart : and united knowledge and exptrience tell upon
the unJerstandings and affections of other*.

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 47

damned, and ihe smoke of their torments would ascend for ever
and ever: — that there was likewise a poor man, named Lazarus,
which was laid at the rich man's gate, full of sores — that he died too
— that angels carried his soul to Abraham's bosom — that the soul
would remain there till the great archangel's trumpet should sound,
when rich and poor, small and great, should stand before God —
and that the soul and body which shared each other's sufferings
upon earth, would share in each other's joys in heaven." It never
entered into Samuel's mind to inquire whether the narrative came
in the shape of a history or of a parable: and neither was it indeed
necessary to his purpose, as parable is the representation of truth
— truth in the spirit, though not in the letter; nor had he any-
thing else in view — unless it were that of making the subject
speak through the " rich man " to his 7ioble auditor — than to
establish in the best way he was able, the existence of the soul,
and the doctrine of future rewards and punishment. If the
character before him had been such as to have admitted an
approach to the probationary character of the " rich man," a
thorough knowledge of Samuel's intellectual powers would at once
have destroyed the supposition of anything like design to institute
a parallelism : and yet, there were few subjects — considering his
own piety and station in society, and the exalted rank of the inter-
rogator— more calculated to fix attention, or that could better afford
ground for reflection and inference. The earl remarked that he was
of the same opinion with Samuel himself on the subject of a future
state, and expressed a wish that the whole world possessed the same
faith.

Having thus received a little encouragement, Samuel proceeded
to show that something more was implied in faith, than a bare assent
to the doctrines of the Bible ; and, to guard the Earl against any
error, gave him an account of his experience, which was as artless in
its design and detail, as that of St. Paul's was seasonalle in the
presence of Agrippa. In evidence that it was taken in good feeling,
" he stopped," says Samuel, " till I related it, and gave me half-a-
erown for preaching this short sermon to him."

Not long after this, he was planned to preach at Methley, and had
some of the servants of the same nobleman for his hearers, to one of
whom — a female — he was uncle. Partly out of respect to Samuel,
and partly to his niece, the servants united in inviting him to spend
the evening with them at the Hall. But before he could comply with
the request, he had a piece of casuistry to settle with his own con-
science. The Earl and the family were in the metropolis, and he
could not conceive how he could live at the noble proprietoi''s expense,
without his consent, and remain guiltless. This point was soon

4-8 Tire ULLAGE BLACKSMITH.

disposed of, by the servants informing him, that during the absence
of the family, they were " living at board wages." " "When I knew
that they could keep me at their own expense," he obsei*ves, " I went
with them, and stopped all night." This was one of those punctilious
movements in social life, which would have escaped the notice of
multitudes, but upon which the eye of an enlightened conscience —
the guardian of property — instantly flashed — and through which the
Christian was commanded to pause and inquire before he advanced.
In the course of the next morning Samuel was shown through the
rooms ; but of all that he saw, not anything attracted his attention
and made an impression equal to a painting of Joseph and Mary, the
latter of whom was placed upon an ass, with the infant Jesus. He
instantly recollected his conversation with the noble owner of the
mansion; and knowing little of books, very innocently, and not
unnaturally for a person of his cultivation, considered this painting
as the source from whence the Earl derived his knowledge. " It was
one of the finest creatures," says he, " I ever saw ; and I thought my
lord had got his information from it." Then, instead of indulging in
what was passing before the eye, he breaks away in a tangent, and
shows where his heart is, by adding in the next sentence, " I am
informed that his lordship has family prayer, morning and evening ; *
and I fully believe, that if Christians of all denominations were faithful
to the grace given, both rich and poor would be saved. I am privi-
leged with getting into the company of gentlemen, and I never let
these opportunities slip. I consider it a privilege to speak a word
for my Master, whom I so dearly love."

It will be easy to perceive, that his association with persons of
distinguished rank only extended to transactions in business, and
that not anything more than this is intended by himself; a circum-
stance which tends not a little to elevate his piety above all worldly
considerations, as many in a similar situation to himself would have
shrunk from the discharge of what appeared to him to be a Christian
duty, from a dread of suffering in business by giving offence to their
employers. An instance of his fidelity, in this respect, — and by no
means a solitary one, — was exemplified in his conduct towards Mr.
Wharton,t whose horse had lost a shoe in the heat of the chase.

• This nobleman died in the course of the winter of 1830 ; and was succeeded in
his titles nnd in his cstivtes by his son, Lord Polliuston. It was to Earl MexborouKli
that the village of Tliomcr, in which the late Rev. John Pawson was bom and is
buried, belonged ; and his kindness and benevolence, as a master and a landlord, wore
not the only excellences for which ho was beloved, and for which he is still had in
remembrance.

t Tlie Mridow and family of this gentleman resided at Aberford. Speaking of tho
Iftdy, Mr. Dawson says—" Samuel stood vei-y high in her estimation. He had full
lilwrty to iiifurni her of any cose of distress that ciiuie under his observation ; aud, on
information being given, he wus frcqueutiv uiude her almoner."

TtiE VltLAGfi fiLACKSMllll. 4?

Having had the horse in the hands of another bhicksmith only the
day before, and being interrupted in his enjoyments, he swore at the
man for having, as he supposed, put on the shoe so carelessly.
Samuel turned to the Esquire, and, without further ceremony, told
him that he paid the rent of the shop, — that while it was in his hand,
he would not suffer any man to take the name of God in vain within
its walls, — and that, if he persisted in swearing, he would not set the
shoe on. He availed himself of the gentleman's anxiety to return to the
field, and the gentleman knowing that his enjoyment depended solely
on his attention to the prohibition which had just been issued, very
prudently desisted. The compassion of Samuel was excited both for
the horse and for the rider. " The poor animal," said he, " could
scarcely stand till I set the shoe on; and while I was shoeing him, I
began to preach, and said, It is a pity. Sir, that these good creatures
should ever be abused." Mr. W. passing over cne rebuke he had
received for swearing, and finding, as he believed, the ground on
which he stood as a hunter, somewhat more tenable than that on
which he stood as a swearer, replied, " The dogs were made on purpose
to hunt the fox, and the horse to follow the dogs." " God," said
Samuel, who felt that the honour of his Maker was interested — " God
was never the author of sin. He sent these creatures for the use ol
man, not to be abused by him. But the time will come. Sir, when
the hounds will not run after the foxes." Mr. W., either not appre-
hending his meaning, or disposed to amuse himself with the reply,
asked, " Do you really think that such a time will ever arrive ? "
"Yes, Sir," returned Samuel: "it will come as sure as God made
the world : for he has prophesied that the lion shall lie down with
the lamb, and that all flesh shall know him, from the least to the
gi'eatest." The shoe having been replaced, a period was put to the
conversation, when Mr. W. very pleasantly tendered him some silver,
which he refused to accept, saying, " I only charge a poor man, two-
pence, and I shall charge you. Sir, no more." The difference which
Samuel observed between Earl Mexborough and Mr. W., — having
accepted silver from the former for a similar office, and declined
receiving it from the latter — shows the acuteness and discrimination
occasionally manifested by him. " Did he," said Samuel to the
biographer, some years after, when relating the cu-cumstance in refe-
rence to Mr. W., " Did he think that I was going to give up my
chance at him for half-a-crown ?" — thus renouncing everything which,
in his estimation, was calculated to deprive him of the privilege of
freedom of remark and rebuke — though undoubtedly erroneous in
the supposition, that Mr. W. had any need to have recourse to the
gift as a bribe. Mr. W. soon remounted, and set off" to renew the
chase. On lus return, he pointed Samuel out to the party that

E

50 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

accompanied him, as he passed the shop, and entertained them with
his notions of the Millennium. A few days after, Mr. W., on again
passing the shop on his way to the field, endeavoured to divert him-
self at Samuel's expense, by asking with some degree of pleasantry,
" Well, do you think the dogs will run the foxes to-day ? " "0 yes,
Sir," replied Samuel, with unexpected smartness, " the Jews are not
brought in yet." Mr. W. seems to have possessed as much millen-
nial knowledge as enabled liim to comprehend Samuel's meaning, and
rode off like a person who had been shot at by the archers.

He was pretty generally known by the sportsmen of the neigh-
bourhood, and few of them, though partly dependent upon them for
employment, remained unreproved by him. Earl Cathcart was one,
among others, who had felt the force of some of his sayings, and who
enjo3^ed their effects upon others. The Earl had an opportunity of
this kind furnished, when several gentlemen were waiting one morn-
ing for the hounds. " They met anent (opposite) my shop," says
Samuel, "and stopped till the hounds came." Among the party
were the honourable C. C. — , vicar of K — , the Earl's brother ; the
Rev. W — , rector of G — ; the late Rev. C — , vicar of A — ; and Dr.
E — , who followed the medical profession at K — . " It came into my
mind," contiiiucd Samiiel, "that the clergymen had no business
there." His movements generally corresponding with the rapidity
of his thoughts, he instantly threw down the hammer and the tongs,
darted out of the shop door, like an animal from a thicket of under-
wood, and appeared in the midst of them with his shirt sleeves turned
up, his apron on, his face and hands partaking of the hue of his
employment — as fine game, in the estimation of some of them, to
occupy the lingering moments till other game should be started — as
any that could present itself in human shape. " jMost of them," says
he, " knew me. I said to them. Gentlemen, this is one of the finest
hunts in the district. You .are favoured with two particular privi-
leges ; and they are privileges which other districts have not." This
excited curiosity, which Avas quickly gratified; for the inquiry relative
to "2'>rivilcrfcs " was no sooner proj)oscd, than the answer was given,
— " If any of you should happen to slip the saddle, and get a fall, you
have a doctor to hlccd you : and three parsons to pray for you : and
what are these but privileges P Three Parsons ! O yes, there they
are." The odd association produced in the minds of some of the
gentlemen, between huntivrj and devotion — the huntsman's shout and
the clergyman's prayer, the inconsistency of which not a few had
light sufficient to perceive, and of which, by the waj', we are furnished
with a somewhat similar ridiculous appearance in some of our cathe-
drals and churches, where some of the ancient knights — represented
a;s prajiiig in marble, booted and spurred, clad in ai'mour, with

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 51

uplifted hands, about to rise to the victor's heaven, of which —
absti'actedly considered — the Bible knows as much as that of the
hunter — this odd association operated powerfully upon the risible
faculties, and turned the laugh upon the clergymen, who, in the
language of Samuel, " lowered their heads, and never spoke a word
in their own defence," though forward enough at other times, and
with open front too, to condemn him for occupying any share of the
priest's office.* But right and trioth give one man an amazing advan-
tage over another; guilt stands abashed in the presence of innocence;
a child, under peculiar circumstances, becomes a Hercules, and wields
truth though in irony, like Elijah, with all the power of the imaginary
deity's club. Towards one of the divines, Samuel experienced an
unusual leaning of spirit ; for he states that it was " under 'Mr. C — ,
of A — , that " his " dear mother was converted to God, in Aberford
Church. The word preached," he proceeds, " proved the power of
God to her soul's salvation. She died happy in God. I do not know
that she ever heard a Methodist sermon in her life." f

A nobleman, who occasionally courted remark from Samuel, and
who was more disposed to tease than to injure him, having told him

♦ The three Reverend Gentlemen were not equally implicated in an adherence to
the chase. With one — the first — it had hecome a passion; and though possessed of
other good quahties, especially benevolence to the poor, yet — so much did the turf
engross his attention — that he thought very Utile of setting off for Doncaster and
Pontefract races after service was over on a Sunday. The second was not remarkable
for following the foxhounds, and is supposed to have proceeded Uttle fiu-ther than that
of attending to see them " throw off." Greyhound coursing was less objectionable, aa
being less hazardous. The third, the late Mr. C, like the first, was a genuine lover of
the sports of the field. He received, however, what would have been sufficient as a
rebuke for others, before he left the world to give an account of his apostleship. On
a shooting excursion, his dogs, as usual, — having been well trained — set some partridges;
the birds started, and flew over a hedge behind which his servant was standing; he
fired :— whether or not he winged a bird, is not for the writer to state, but it is well
known that he killed the man.

t To argue from hence, that a Christian minister is at liberty to pursue what Una
of conduct he pleases, because the Divine Being may voxichsafe to honour his ministry
with success, as though He thereby sanctioned the proceedings of the man, would be
absurd. Truth and the medium of its conveyance are two distinct tilings — as much so
as the wafer and the conduit through which it passes ; nor are any of the cleansing
effects or refreshing quahties of the water to be attributed to the instrument of com-
munication, as any other medium of conveyance, whether of wood, lead, or silver,
would have equally served the purpose, and the effects had been produced as easily
without as with the one employed. This may be carried even a httle fm-ther ; for it
would be no difficult matter to prove, that ministerial fruit is not an exclusive proof
of a call to the ministry. Open this door, and the greatest latitude is given to female
preaching. Fruit — independent of other evidence — is only a proof of the pouer of
truth— not of a caU to preach it. Truth belongs to God, and He will honour His own
truth, whoever may be the instrument emi)loyed to deliver it. Should the instrument
himself be unconverted, he will receive the honour which the sca/oldi'ng receives from
the builder, when it has served his purpose, in contributing its share to the completion
of the erection — be thrown aside as forming no part of the goodly edifice. This is not
intended to apply to the clergyman inquesfion, however much out of place in the field,
but to protect the simple-hearted from deducing false Inferences from apparently
legitimate but, in poiut cif fact, otherwise false premises.

« 2

52 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

that he ought to be suz-charged for placing a saddle on his cart-horse on
the Lord's-day; he immediately threw back upon his noble implicator
the mischiefs of the chase ; stating, that there would be a greater pro-
priety in surcharging his lordship himself for breaking down the
hedges of the farmer, than that he should be surcharged for saddling
his horse, riding peaceably on the king's highway, and going about
doing good by preaching the Gospel. The laiv of the case was not
what occurred to Samuel : he looked at it with the eyes of a Christian,
without connecting with it for the moment the relation in which he
stood to the British Constitution as a subject ; and although he would
have yielded to no man in point of loyalty, and no man was more
ready to pay the taxes imposed by Government than himself; y^t
this was a case, like many others, of which he could only see one
bearing, and that was a bearing of hardship. The naked principles
of fjood and evil arranged themselves on opposite sides, and so com-
pletely was his mind absorbed with these, that all the reasoning that
could have been employed would never have made the subject appear
otherwise than unreasonable to him — that one man should be per-
mitted to do evil, and that another, from the purest motives, at his
own cost, and with his own horse, should not be permitted to proceed
on his way to do (jood, without an extra charge. To have suggested
that his lordship had to pay for his pleasure by a tax upon both his
dogs and his horses, would not have removed the impression of hard-
ship from the mind of Samuel.* His logic was simple, and untram-
melled by legal subtleties. His reply would have been, that his
lordship had no right to do evil, though he paid for it — that creation
belonged to his Divine Master — that man was in misery — that he
himself, as a servant of the Most High, was commanded to do good
unto all men — and that, to the performance of acts of mercy, not
only should " every let or hindrance " be removed out of the way,
but every person should contribute to the furtherance of such. work
— forgetting that, if all were contributors, there would be an end to
receivers — and that, in forming laws for the multitude, it was iixpos-
sible so to construct them, as not, in certain cases and under certain
circumstances, to bear hard upon a few individuals. If any class of

* It would have beeu a little amusing to have witnessed S.imuel's feelings, and
heard his remarks ou the following items, occasioucd by British dcrotiou to doos. In
a parliamentary paper, ordered to be printed, it appears that the total number of dogs
of different descriptions (exclusive of packs of hounds) upon which duty was paid in
the United Kingdom, during the year ending 5th April, 1829, was ;!53,058. The
amount of duty paid upon them was £187,581. The packs of hounds upon which
duty was paid amounted to 69 ; the duty ou each being X'36, the sum total amounted
to £2,481'. The duty paid upon dogs within the bills of mortality was £15, .'507. —If
he had beard a rough calculation of not only the tax upon houn<ls and horses, but
the oxpciiso of purchase, keep, keepers, ic, Samuel would have pitied the man
who uould spoid BO much upon so Uttle.

THE villagt: blacksmith. 5S

men bad a right to institute a claim of exemption from such a tax, it
was such men as Samuel Hick : and had our legislators deemed
exemption prudent, there is no doubt that to such men it would have
been extended.

Many of the circuits continued very extensive long after Samuel
was admitted on the Local Preachers' Plan ; and such were his " out-
goings," occasioned by the ardour of his zeal, that a horse became
absolutely necessary, in order to enable him to accomplish his
"labours of love." As an exemplification of part of his toil and
treatment, he observes, " In those days there were not many noble,
not many rich called. For my own part, I have travelled many scores
of miles, and neither tasted meat nor drink till I got home in the
evening. I have very often had snowballs thrown at me, and been
abused by the enemies of the cross of Christ : I have been turned
out of places where I have been preaching, by the clergy and the
magistrates ; but, bless the Lord, I have lived to see better days."
After noticing the cessation of persecution, he again, by a sudden
transition of thought, turned to his favourite subject — the grand
millennium, which appeared like a vision breaking upon his " gifted
sight," and " more golden bright than the rich morn on Carmel," — a
vision often repeated, in which there was to him, in the language of
the poet, " a mingling of all glorious forms," — of " angels riding
upon cloudy thrones, and saints marching all abroad, like crowned
conquerors : " nor had the fair poetical Jewess, so finely pourtrayed
by Milman, in his " Fall of Jerusalem," more delightful visions, when
" nightly visitations " poured over her mind, " like the restless
waters of some cataract in the noontide sun," than had Samuel Hick
of " the latter-day glory," towards which he was constantly turning,
like the sun-flower towards the orb of day, and in the splendour of
which he was constantly basking and brightening.

Whatever might have been the length of journey, and whatever
the fare with which he was treated, the spirit of Samuel remained
unbroken, his gratitude unabated. He had bread to eat of which
the world had no knowledge ; the religion of the soul appeared to
bear up the animal frame, and to render it frequently insensible to
pain, and want, and toil. The hut afTorded him higher entertainment
than the dwellings of the wealthy. The following relation furnishes
an insight into his spirit. " I remember," says he, " I was planned
to preach at Hemsworth,* once, and being a stranger in the town, I
inquired where the Methodist preachers put up their horses. I was

• In 1811 and 1812, wheu the writer was in the habit of visiting the vilkge, in
which there was a neat Weslej'an chapel, it was in tlie Barusley Circuit. At tlio
period referred to by Samuel, it was probably connected with Leeds, Wakefield, oi
Pontefract. It is about six miles from Pontefract, and fifteen from Micklefield.

54 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

informed that there was not anybody in the place that would take
them in ; but that a poor man received them at the common-side. I
went to my inn, and found a place to put up my horse, which they
had built on purpose for the preachers' hoi'ses. When I got into the
house, I soon found that the poor people had Jesus Christ with them.
They were glad to see me, and to receive both me and my horse.
These dear friends had a great many enemies, because of their taking
in the preachers. The people who had supplied them with milk,
refused to let them have any more ; and the publicans would not let
them have yeast for their bread. They were also in a strait for food
for the preachers' horses. The poor woman begged a few lands end*
of grass, got it dried, and preserved it ; and she gleaned a little corn
in the fields. She made us very comfortable. Some time after this,
1 was again planned for the same place. The Lord had opened the
hearts of some of the farmers, and they opened their houses ; but I
went to my old inn at the common-side. The woman cried for joy to
see me. She said she was sorely troubled, because the preachers had
left her house; but I told her not to be troubled about it — that she
would get her reward for her labour of love. I went to the same
place about thirty years after this, and found the same widow. She
was very happy in her soul. We see that the Lord is as good as his
promise, ' Them that honour me I will honour ' — ' With long life will
I satisfy' them, ' and show ' them ' my salvation.' She was very glad
to see me; and I told her I would put her into my life, for a memo-
rial of her love to the preachers and their beasts. It was like the
widow's mite."

The simplicity of the man is at once seen, in telling the aged
matron that she should occupy a place in the memoir of his life ; and
that he intended nothing more in what he termed his " Life," than to
show forth the goodness of God to himself and others, wiU readily
be credited; nor shall his innocent intentions, though bordering
upon the childishness of simplicity, in reference to the poor widow,
cease to be fulfilled to the very letter. " Ruth the Moabitess " did
not cleave closer to " God " and his "people," than did this poor
woman ; nor did the young widow appear more interesting to Boaz
among the " reapers," than did this gleaner in the corn-fields to
Samuel Hick. He, however, in consoling her for the loss of the
preachers, seemed to be unaware that ho was furnishing a substantial
reason, in his notice of some of the farmers having " opened their
houses," why they should take up their abode elsewhere ; a point
upon which many would have fastened, and would from thence have
argued the propriety of relieving her of a burden — though deemed
by her a privation — which she had so long and so nobly borne, and
trhich others, now luado willinj^ in the day of Gospel power, wore

THE VILl^GE BLACKSMITH. 55

equally ready, and much more able, to bear than herself. For, com-
plimentary as it had been for a poor widow, like her of Zarcphath,
whose " cake " and " cruse " never failed to supply the wants of the
prophet of the Lord, it would have reflected little honour on the more
wealthy, to have looked on with a stupid indifference, and to have
permitted its continuance. Some of the very first expressions
uttered by the neiv-born soul are, " What shall I do P " These are
the mere nursery expressions of the babe, in reference to the cause of
God. Some persons, it is true — not very remarkable for self-denial,
or turning the good things of this life aside when within their reach
— would have availed themselves of the opportunity of exuding a
little bad feeling, by insinuating that the preachers were always on
the alert to better their condition. But the very fact of their having
stopped so long to lodge in the hovel, — of their readiness to accom-
modate themselves to any fare, however scanty, and to any situation,
however humble, while labouring to promote the happiness of their
fellow-creatures, — shows that they carried about with them the spirit
of self-denial, and Lave it yet at hand, whenever Providence opens
the door and bids them enter : and the wailings of the widow for
their loss, are evidence of their worth ; for, having been cheered by
their presence, their advice, and their prayers, on the social hearth-
stone, she sighed and wept at their removal ; and sighed the more as
she valued their society.

Samuel took his own way of consoling her, and directed her
attention to the " recompense of reward," for what she had done.
And it was here, both as to subject and place, that he was in hia
element. To behold him thus, in one of his happiest moods, the
reader has only to sketch a thatched cottage, tottering, like its
inmate, with age; its whitewashed walls and mud floor ; a few homely
pieces of furniture, impaired by long-continued use ; Samuel himself
seated upon the remains of an old oaken chair, on the opposite side
of the fire to the good old woman ; titere talking of the joys of the
heaven to which they were both hastening, throwing a beam of sun-
shine into the heart of her with whom he conversed, and which
seemed dead within her, till he stirred it into life. Now he crouches
forwards, with the crovni of his head towards the fire — his ej^es fixed
upon the ground — his elbows occasionally supported by his knees —
the palms of his hands turned upwards — his thumbs and fore-fingers
in constant motion, as though he were in the act of rubbing some fine
powder between them, in order to ascertain the quality; or like some
of our elderly matrons at the distaff', twisting the fibres of the flax
into a thread — dropping for a moment the conversation — next chiming
in with a few notes of praise — again taking up the theme of Christ
and future glory — his face meanwhile glistening through the rising

56 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMfTH.

emotions of iiis soul — his hands now gliding into quicker action — llit
fountain of the beating heart breaking up — till at length, elevating
his frame, and with his eyes brimming with tears, he seems to throw,
by a single glance, all the tenderness of his soul into the bosom of
the object of his solicitude, which at once softens, animates, and
transfixes the eye of the beholder in grateful return upon himself for
the conversational benefits thus conferred.

One of the cases to which Samuel refers, when he states he had
been " turned out of places by the clergy," occurred in his own neigh-
bourhood. On the death of Lady Betty Hastings, and the termina-
tion of the Rev. W. Sellon's labours at Ledsham, the living was given
to a young clergyman, in a delicate state of health, who came from
London to take possession, and who, in his first sermon, made a
warm attack upon enthusiasm, and denied the influences of the Holy
Ghost, stating, that there had been no such thing as inspiration in
the world since the apostolic age. To this he might have been
led, from a persuasion that the people had been deluded into the
belief of such things through the mistaken piety, as he supposed, of
her ladyship, and the preaching of his predecessors. But while thus
proclaiming his own nakedness of soul, of every hallowed influence,
the poor people, " clothed with the Spirit of holiness," were better
instructed, and instead of being satisfied with this coUegian, sent for
the " Village Blacksmith," to build them up in the faith of Christ.*
Samuel yielded to their entreaties ; but found it difficult to obtain a
house to preach in, as nearly every house was under clerical influ-
ence, and those who sent for him were afraid of incurring the clergy-

• The people's choice, in this case, must remind those who are acquainted with
the facts of Mr. Baxter's account, in the Preface to his Disputatious, p. 1S6 — 7, of the
election of Alexander. 'VVhon Gregory conferred with the Church rospectinji the choice
of a pastor, sevenil of the people were for having a man of rank and splendid abilities ;
tat recollecting that the prophet anointed David, ft shepherd, to le king over Israel,
he requested them to look among the lower order of society, and to see whether a
person could not be found possessed of piotj- and ministerial qiialilicatious. This was
received with indignation by several of the inhabitants of Comana; and one lofty
spirited gentleman, whose views as little accorded with those of Gregory as they would
have done with those of the little Christian flock at Ledsham, in after ages, told the
worthy bishop, by way of derision, that if he wished them to take a person from the
3cum of the people, they might as well select Alexander, the collier, from their ranks.
Gregory took the hint, and sent for Alexander, who appeared before them, ragged in
his apparel, and besmeared, like Samuel, with the filth of his employment, exciting the
laughter of the less sedate among the assembly. The bishop soon perceived him to
be a man of both talent and piety ; and after withdrawing with him, and instructing
him how to act, returned to the assembly, and delivered a discourse on the nature of
the pastoral office. It was not long before Alexander, who was a comely -looking man,
was again presented to the brethren, washed, and attiivd in the canonicals of the epis-
copal order, ond was chosen — collier as ho had been— bishop of Comana, with only one
dissenting voice I Tliou^rh there is no doubt that Alexander was by far SamueVs
•Hjierior in point of intellect, yet the coal, the smoke, and the soot, liad an am.i7.<nj);
influence on the more elegant in both cases ; and the Wesleyan body wna ua groat a
hflp to the latter rk Orfgiuy was to the former.

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 57

man's displeasure. A good woman at lengtli obtained the consent of
her husband to lend their house for the occasion, indifferent to conse-
quences. A congregation was soon assembled, and Samuel com-
incnced with singing and prayer. Daring the second hymn, a noise
was heard at the door, when Samuel left his stand, and went to inquire
into the cause. He was met at the entrance by the clergyman,
accompanied by another gentleman, to whom he announced himself
as the preacher.

Clergyman. "We want none of your preaching here, and are
resolved not to have it."

Samuel. " Sir, I preached the Gospel here before you were bom,
and I will live to preach it when you are gone."

Cler. " I tell you I will not suffer you to preach here. This house
is my property."

Sam. " Why, Sir, you do not preach the Gospel to the people, for
you deny inspiration ; and no man can preach it but by inspiration
of the Spirit of God."

Cler. " I discharge you from preaching in this house."

To this authority Samuel reluctantly submitted, as it would have
been imprudent to encourage the occupants to persist in resisting
their landlord : the people were therefore dismissed. The clergyman,
however, mistook his opponent, if he concluded that the field was his
own ; for though the preacher was driven from the house, he was not
di'iven from his purpose. On returning home, he wi'ote a long, faith-
ful letter to the reverend gentleman : informing him, in connection
with the admonitions sent, that on the following Sabbath, he should
again visit Ledsham — occupy a piece of waste land in the village, to
which he could lay no claim, as it belonged to the lord of the manor
— and should there, in his own cart, preach to the people; giving
him an invitation at the same time to attend, and to correct him in
anything he might advance contrary to the Scriptures or the Book
of Common Prayer. As he made no secret of either his letter or his
intentions, the report of his visit to Ledsham, in defiance of the
newly-inducted minister, soon spread among the neighbouring
villagers. The day arrived^the people flocked to the place from a
circle of some miles. Samuel, after unyoking his horse, appeared in
his cart, occupied it as a pulpit for the occasion, accompanied by foiu-
ocal preachers — the air rang with the songs of praise, and a glorious
influence attended the Word. The clergyman and his lady stood at a
distance hearkening to what was said. Samuel, towards the close,
told them that he loved the Church, and hoped that " as soon as the
bells" gave " over talking" they would accompany him, and join in
its service. " We all went," he observed, " and I never saw a church
BO full in all my life The aisles, the communion-place, and bell- house,

58 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

were all crammed full. What was the best of all, the clerk was on
our side, and gave out a hymn tune. Such glorious music I never
heard in a church before. The parson, poor young man ! was over-
faced with us, and could not preach, so that he had to employ another
person." As a substitute is not so easily obtained, in an emergency
of this kind, in the Establishment, as among the Dissenters, it is
p-Tobable that the person was prepared for the duties of the day,
independent of this circumstance, and that Samuel attributed to the
congregation that which originated in indisposition. This is the more
likely from what Samuel adds : — " The poor young man went off to
London next morning, where he died, and was brought back to be
buried about six months after." This fact, taken in connection with
Samuel's declaration, " I preached the Gospel here before you were
born, and will live to preach it when you are gone," falls upon the
heart with peculiar solemnity. It ought not to be omitted, that the
clergjmian beckoned the churchwarden to him after the service, and
stated that he had inquired into the character of the old blacksmith —
found that he was a very good man — and wished him to be informed
from himself, that he might preach in the village whenever ho
judged proper.

ic£a6e b

TBB YICLAGE BLACKSMITH. 59

CHAPTER YI.

HI* qualiflcations for soliciting pecuniary aid — an unsuccsssful application to a clerpry-
man — relieves the circuit from a debt of seventy pounds — his anxiety to obtain a
chapel at Aberford — a miser, and his manner of addressing him — a chapel erected
—contests with several avaricious characters— a visit to Eochdale — administers
seasonable relief to a preacher's family — his Scriptural views of charity — supplies
a poor family with coals — regales part of a company of soldiers on a forced march
— an amusing domestic scene— visitation of the sick— gives up the use of tobacco
from principle — his indisposition, and inattention to the advice of his medical
attendant — the good effects of his state of mind upon others— raises a subscription
for a poor man — relieves a poor female — his love to the missionary cause — origin
of missionary meetings among the Wesleyans.

Such was the native restlessness of Sanauel's character, that, like quick-
silver, the slightest impulse propelledr and continued him in motion.
With the exception of sleep, or the utter exhaustion of his physical
powers, ho scarcely knew a pause in the work of God. This
promptitude to be serviceable to others, the general esteem in which
he was held, together with peculiar fitness for benevolent enterprise
— the latter of which was founded on his own generosity — his
simplicity of manners, a certain straightforwardness, which knew no
fear, and saw no difficulties, rendered him a desirable person to
engage ia any purpose for soUciting pecuniary aid. Accordingly, he
was selected by a committee formed for the occasion, and was com-
missioned to go through the circuit in which he resided, to collect
subscriptions, in order to relieve it from its financial embarrassments.
Clothed with proper authority, and furnished with a book in which to
enter the names of his subscribers, he went forth with the freshness
and spirit of the husbandman on entering for the first time in the
season into the harvest field. He saw the fields white, and in his
view had nothing to do but put in his sickle. He found few obstruc-
tions ; and among these few — created, by the way, by his own impru-
dence— he records one which may be considered more amusing than
vexatious.

" I went to Ricall," says he, " and as I proposed going to all the
houses in the town, I thought there would be no harm in calling
upon the Church clergyman. I did so, and found him in his garden.
I presented my book, which he gave me again, and looked at me."
This look would have had a withering effect upon many of Samuel's
superior's; but the same spirit and views which had emboldened

60 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

him to make the application, supported him in the rebuff with wliicli
he met. " I am suiprised," said the clergyman, " that you should
ask mo to support dissenters from the Church of England ! '*
Samuel instantly interposed with, " No, Sir, we are not dissenters ;
the Church has dissented from us. The Methodists are good Church-
men where the Gospel is preached. And as for myself, I never
turned my back on a brief when I went to Church." Though
wiser heads than Samuel's might hove found it difficult to prove
dissenterism against the Church of England, except Irom the Church
of Rome, he deemed himself correct in his denial of the application
of the epithet to the Methodist body. The retort was more equit-
ably supported when he defended himself, by adding to his reverence,
" I think there is no more harm in your helping to support us,
than there is in us helping to support you." The clergyman here
very properly took shelter imder the wing of the State — his only
ground of defence — by replying, " You are obliged to support us ;
the law binds you to do it." Samuel, in return, resorted to the
only code of laws with which he had any acquaintance, and which ho
consulted daily — the Christian code — saying, " Ours is a law of love ;
and if we cannot all think alike, we must all love alike." He con-
cludes, on retiring with his Wesleyan "brief," which met with abetter
reception elsewhere, — " We parted after a long contest ; and although
I did not get any money from him, I would not have taken five
shillings for my cause ; " or, as in all probability he meant, the
opportunity he had just had of pleading and supporting it. His
summary of his labours, treatment, and success, during the re-
mainder of his tour, is worthy of notice : " I had a very good time
in going round the circuit — had very kind friends — preached and
prayed — and got seventy pounds towards the debt. While employed
in this noble work, I got my own soul blest ; and I grew like a
willow by the water-side. I got many a wet shirt, and many a
warm heart: and while I was begging for money for the cause of
God, I did not forget to pray for the souls of my fellow-creatures."

Some money which had been lent upon a chapel in the neigh-
bourhood, some time after this, being about to be called in, Samuel
felt very uncomfortable lest the sum should not be forthcoming
when required. Relief seemed to present itself in a moment, while he
was musing in his shop. He laid aside his tools — went into the house
— washed and attired himself in his best apparel. His friend, Mr.
Rhodes,* siirprised to see him thus habited, inquired, "Where are
you going, Samuel P " "I am homi (going) to Frystone to get

• This venomble man, who woa living when the forty-fourth page of the first
e'lition of this nu'inoir was iu tlio press, has since joined the world of sjurits. " H«
died Mo; ISth," BtLjB Mr. Dawsoa, "and entered tl.c c^ime beavcu with Samuel."

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 61

Borne money for the chapel," he replied. " Of whom ? " it was
asked. *' Of Mr. ," was rejoined. Mr. R., knowing the gen-
tleman, and considering him, from his prejudices and habits, to be
a very unlikely person for such an application, endeavoured to dis-
suade him from the journey. His entreaties were fruitless. Samuel
set off — obtained an interview with the gentleman — was courteously
received — and after naming the object of his mission, the circum-
stance in which the trustees would be placed, and the nature of the
security, was told that the money was at his service at any hour.
Samuel returned delighted; and it is doubtful whether any man
besides himself would have obtained relief from the same source.
Mr. R. nad given all up in despair.

Samuel Hick was a man who would not solicit charities fi'om
others, in order to save himself; or even a loan, whicli he would
not have cheerfully advanced, provided he had the amount in his
possession. He gave to the extent of his ability, and might even
be associated with those of the Corinthians, who " beyond their
power were willing of themselves " to impart gifts to others. Many
interesting instances of liberality might be selected from different
periods of his personal history, and here concentrated. As spe-
cimens of others which must henceforth remain curtained jfrom
earthly gaze, the following charities, without attending to any
chronological arrangement, will tend to illustrate one of the more
important traits in his character.

He had long looked upon Abcrford, his birth-place, as his
Redeemer had beheld Jerusalem — with the compassionate emotions
of a soul alive to the spiritual dangers and necessities of its inhabi-
tants. His wish to see a Wesleyan chapel erected in it, amounted
even to anxiety, if not pain. In the year 1804, his wife had £200 left
her by a relation. This was placed by the side of the fruits of his
own industry, and the union gave the appearance of wealth in humble
life. As his property increased, so did his anxiety for a place of
worship at Abcrford ; and he at length declared, that if not a farthing
should be contributed by others, rather than the village should be
without a chapel, he would give the £200 which he had lately
received. He stated his views and feelings to Mr. Rhodes, and
remarked, that he thought he could procure a piece of ground from
a gentleman, who, though a Methodist, had not so far been influenced by
religion as to be saved from the covetousness of his nature.*

• Samuel had some odd notions and expressions relative to such characters.
Looking abroad at the fine feeling of benevolence which had gone forth ; and not
often associating with persons of a parsimonious disposition, he exclaimed to a friend,
oue day, " The breed of misers is nearly nm out, and not one of the few that art
living dare get married, so that in a little time we shall see no more of them."

f53 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

Mr. Rhodes intimated to him that he doubted his sticcess in t!ie
direction towards which he was looking, unless the old gentleman
was about to die, or some extraordinary change had taken place in
the disposition of his heart. Samuel was not to be diverted from his
purpose ; he could have rendered nugatory, by a single sentence — ■
" The Lord has the hearts of all men in his keeping " — all the
reasoning of the most skilful logician — could have dissipated evei-y
doubt, like mist before the sun. Away he proceeded to the late Sir
Thomas Gascoigne, Bart., the lord of the manor, in order, in the first
instance, to obtain permission to procure stone, upon Hook Moor,
since, without building materials, the land would not have answered
his purpose. This was readily granted. He next proceeded to the
gentleman loaded with "thick clay," who was instinctively led to
raise objections against the proposal. Samuel, in perfect keeping
with the other portions of his thinkings and remarks, combated
every objection, not in the detail, but with one of his wholesale sweeps
— " The land is the Lord's ; you are only the occupier ; and the Lord
wants some of His own land to build His own house upon." Mr. T.,
who had already the " nine points " in law on his side, was not to be
subdued by a single blow in the onset ; nor was Samuel to abandon
himself to despair by the notion of possession, as he could have
instantly conjured up the argument of death to dispossess the occu-
pant. Such, however, were the irresistible appeals of one untutored
mind upon another, such Samuel's importunitj^, that the miser in the
man actually gave way before him, and the old gentleman told him
that he thought he should not live much longer, and would therefore
let him have the piece of ground which he had selected for the pur-
pose. Samuel went home rejoicing ; but his joy, alas ! was of short
duration ; it was like the fold of a cloud, which, by suddenly opening
and re-closing, only veils the heavens with additional darkness ; the
miser started into life again during his absence, the proprietor
altered his resolution, and every hope was frosted. All, however,
was not lost. " It is but justice to state," Mr. Dawson observes,
" that though Mr. T. died before a chapel was erected at Aberford,
yet he expressed a wish to his executors that they should give five
pounds towards such erection, should one at any future period ba
built. With this request, though only orally delivered, they cheer-
fully complied."

About eight years after this, there was a favourable opening for a
chapel, which Samuel promptly embraced. He was desirous, how-
ever, of associating Martha with him in this charity; and having
more confidence in God than himself, he retired to pray, that her
heart might be prepared for its exercise. On withdrawing from hia
privacy, and appearing before her. he scarcely felt satisfied with his

TUE VILLAGE BLACKt^MITH. 63

success, and aguin retired without opening his mind on the subject.
He prayed — he believed — and rising from his knees, descended from
the chamber in confidence. Martha knew that a chapel was on the
eve of being built ; and the moment now arrived for ascertaining the
temperature of her charity. Samuel opened the business : " You
know we are bown to have a chapel at Aberford, Matty, and we must
give something to it ; what do you think it should be ? " " "Well,"
returned Martha, whose proper character only required a fitting occa-
sion for its disclosure, " we mun gee summixt haunsom." Never did
music sound sweeter to the human ear, than did this sentence to
Samuel, who was instantly in tears. But there was still a degree of
uncertainty remaining, in reference to the standard which each had
separately and privately fixed upon, as reaching the point which, in
their circumstances, was deemed something handsome. Samuel,
therefore, sohcitous to come to a conclusion, asked, " Ajid what shall
it be ? " " Twenty pounds," rephed Martha. This was almost too
much for his feelings, not only on account of the generosity displayed,
but because it was the very sum on which he himself had previously
determined; and the opportunity for noticing it is the more readily
embraced, in order to place Martha's character in a correct light.* It
was intended as the dwelling-place of her God — it was a charity in
which immortal spirits were concei'ned — and was also to be erected
in the birth-place of her husband. A gentleman farmer undertook
the work of soliciting subscriptions for its erection, and Samuel had

* A flippant review of the fourth edition of this work appeared in the Wesleyan
Methodist Magazine for 1834, pp. 520 — 529, when the fifth was in the market. The
reviewer complains of " tardy justice to Sammy's wife," as exercised by the biographer ;
and yet, if he himself had been in haste to do "justice" to the author he had in hand,
he would have found Sammy censured for not having paid greater attention to Marl ha,
pp. 195, 196, and Martha herself eulogised as an excellent economist — a noble-mir.ded
woman — and, as Sammy's preserver, in saWng him from the parish, pp. 259, 276, 2S7,
113, 114, 117. See the earher editions. The reviewer further observes, that "tlie
quality of the book would be improved, as well as the price reduced, by selection and
abridgement." This hint may be very proper ; but authors are not always disposed to
act on the suggestions of friends, as to the size and composition of their works. If
they were, the editor himself — the Eev. T. Jackson — might, while the article w;ia
passing through his hands, have taken the hint, as to his Life of the Eev. Eichard
Watson, and so have avoided a stinging remark in one of the public journals, — He h;is
" completely buried the man beneath a dense mass of his own productions." No
remark of this kind, however, was allowed by the worthy editor to enter into the
Magazine, in reference to his own work ; or, indeed, any of his works — taking care to
admit nothing but what was laudatory — as witness the reviews of Watson's Life, his
own Sermons, the Centenary Volume, &c. Tha man who resides in a house, and pre-
serves the Key in his own hand, has great advantage over those who are "without."
Under such circvimstances, he can admit, not only himself and his friends, but also the
friends of the family. But neither of the biographers, as far as size is concerned,
have occasion for discouragement ; they are in excellent society ; Calvin, Goodwin,
Baxter, and many other excellent men, have, in their respective Works, been placed
under the pruning-knife ; and though the suggestion came too late for the editor's
Life of John Goodwin, pubhshed in 1822, it is hoped that it will be borne in mind, on
the event — now after a lapse of eighteen years — of a second edition being called for.

64 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH,

the unspeakable pleasure of seeing it rise in the face of the sun,
vying with all around it for neatness and accommodation. He had
the honour, also, of laying the first stone, upon which he most
devoutly knelt, and most fervently prayed for the blessing of God
upon the house which was to overshadow it : " And as he offered up
the first prayer upon the first stone that was laid, so," says Mi\
Da\vson, " in the ptilpit of the same chapel, he preached his last
sermon, and poured forth his last public prayer for the prosperity o(
Zion." The chapel was crowded on the occasion, and a collection was
made by him in the evening, for the purpose of defraying the
expenses of cleaning, lighting, &c., which far exceeded any sum that
had been obtained for the same purpose before; the auditory thus, both
by their attendance and liberality, rendering that homage which they
would have paid him, had they been certain he was about to depart,
and expected to hear him announce for his farewell address, " Ye
shall see my face no more."

A conquest no less complete, but much more rapid than the pre-
ceding, was one which he obtained over another son of the earth, in
one or his Yorkshire tours. Having met on former occasions, they
were known to each other, and as great an intimacy subsisted between
them, as was possible in the admixture of fine gold and the coarsest
clay. Samuel addressed him on behalf of Christian missions, but
found every part of the fortress provided with arms against any
regular and deliberate attack. Poverty was pleaded — objections to
the object urged — and reasons given why help should be sought in
other quarters. On finding all " special pleading " inefiectual, and as
though aware that a city which would be proof against a regular
siege, might nevertheless be taken by surprise, he dropped in his
accustomed manner upon his knees, and turning from the miser,
directed his addresses to God. Every sentence was like inspiration,
and penetrated the soul of the miser like the fire of heaven — withering
him with fear. Impressed, apparently, with a di'ead of the Being
before whom he was thus immediately brought in prayer, in whose
hearing he had pleaded poverty, though possessed of thousands of
gold and silver, and who could in an instant, as easily take away life
as annihilate projicrty, he exclaimed with hurried vehemence, —
" Sam, I'll give thee a guinea, if thou wilt give over." Samuel*
unruffled in his pleadings by the oddity of the circumstance, and
who, in fact, had too many eccentricities of his own to be moved by
those of others, and encouraged withal by the symptoms which
appeared, proceeded with earnestness in his addresses ; and changing
the subject, with the quickness of thought, told his Maker how
inadequate a guinea was to effect the conversion of the world, and
how trifling a sum it was in return for the thousands which tlie

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 6S

recipient had received in the dispensations of Providence. The miser
was again met in an unexpected way, and in the genuine "love of
money," which seemed to excite a fear lest he should be further
wrought upon by the prayer of the petitioner, or God should extort
from hira in the moment of excited feeling more than the selfishness
of nature would allow, he again roared out, — " Sam, I tell thee to give
over, — I'll give thee two guineas if thou wilt only give it up."
Anxious to maintain his ground, Samuel started up with the same
abruptness with which he had. knelt — held the miser to his word —
secured two notes — and bore them away in triumph to a missionary
meeting about to be held in the neighbourhood, where he exhibited
them on the platform, with the high-vrrought feelings of a man who
had snatched a living child from the clutch of an eagle. To be grave
in the rehearsal or hearing of such iaetn,* is as difficult as it is to
beheve in the sincerity of the giver ; and were it not for the general
artlessness of conduct and disposition manifested by Samuel, itwotdd

* Though the biographer, in his owb defence and in the defence of Mr. 'Wesley,
will have occasionally to advert to the review of this work in the Wedeyan Methodiat
Magazine for 1834, aUuded to in a preceding note, it is not his intention to enter upon
mere points of criticism, in which he stands in his individual capacity as an author ;
as when the reviewer, under the wing of the editor, drops a sly hint on the subject of
" hook-making," while he himself is engaged in page making, by filhng three-fourths of
his article with materials made to his hand from the book he professes to cri-
ticise ; — as when he talks about "funny tales," while he himself tries to make
merry with his author, though somewhat awkward in his gait ; — as when he speaks
disparagingly of "fine viriting," while ho himself appears to have caught the
spirit in perusing the work, and making a few attempts to reach it, by speaking
of "unsuUied honour refreshing one's spirit hke an oasis in the desert," —
"goodness glowing in a blacksmith's shop," — "handsome trowsers glittering (with
what ?) through the branches," &c., &c., &c. These are points which resolve them-
selves into matters of opinion, and may be good or bad as they are intended, and aa
they are taken. But for the reviewer to attempt to amuse himself at the biographer's
expense, while objecting to the more amusing portions of the volume, scarcely com-
ports with the notions of what we call consistency. — The venerable Wesley would
occasionally mix a httle quiet humour with graver subjects. " I called," he observes,
"upon Mr. C, who once largely ' fasted of the good Word of Gtod, and the powers of
the world to come.' I found him very loving, and very di-unk ; as he commonly is,
day and night. But I could fix nothing upon him. ' He may fall foully, but not
finally ! ' " Works, vol. ii., p. 40. Again, " I left Epworth with great satisfaction,
and about one preached at Clayworth. I think none were unmoved, but Michael
Penwick, who fell fast asleep under an adjoining hayrick." Ihid., p. 419. This same
person is noticed elsewhere, and described by Mr. Wesley, as " an excellent groom,
valet de chamhre, nurse, and upon occasion a tolerable preacher." Ibid., vol. xii., p. 168.
Nor was the founder of Methodism always averse to it on still more solemn occasions :
" Being asked," says he, " to visit a dying woman, I no sooner entered the room than
both she and her companions were in such emotions as I have seldom seen. Some
laitg?iecl, some cried, all were so transported, that they could hard!y speak. Oh ! how
much bettar it is to go to the poor, than to the rich ; and to the house of mourning,
than to the house of feasting." Works, vol. iv., p. 224. This edition was edited by
the Eev. Thomas Jackson, editor of the Magazine, when the review was introduced. It
is marvellous that he did not, among his other foot-notes, guard the reader against
Mr. Wesley's strokes of humour ; and still more remarkable, that Mr. Wesley himself,
Biivmld sanction the pubUcation of his brother Samuel's " Moral Tales" of the Coblsr,
tlus Mastiff, &c.

66 THE TILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

have been impossible to view it otherwise than as a species of dex-
terous acting, practised with a view to impose. But a preconcerted
plan would have spoiled it ; he had not a mind to carry him forward
in such a thing beyond the length of his own shadow beneath a
meridian sun ; he was the mere creature of impulse — knew no more
of plot than a child.

He was less successful in another case, when called upon to visit
a professor of religion possessed of from six to eight thousand
pounds, and yet, as a proof of the hoUowness of his professions,
would not allow himself the common necessaries of life. Samuel
having heard he was dying, and being well acquainted with him,
entered his habitation of wretchedness. The furniture was poor, and
appeared to have served two or three generations in a regular ances-
tral line ; the room was filthy, and the air foetid ; and yet the general
survey was less repulsive than the scene in one of the corners of the
room, where the wretched man was lying on a still more wretchedly
dirty bedstead, covered with an old horsecloth, and scarcely an
article of linen visible. Samuel was shocked at the sight, and accosted
him, " Man, what art thou about ? Thou hast plenty, — why dost
thou not make thyself comfortable ? Thou wilt leave thy money to
those, hcippai, that will make none of the best use of it." * Turning
his dim eye and squalid face towards Samuel, and thrusting his
withered arm from underneath the filthy coverlet, like the skeleton
arm of death stretching into sight, he pointed his finger downward,
and said, " Look there — I do endeavour to comfort myself" Samuel
inclined his head, till he was enabled to look beneath the bed, where
he saw a small phial bottle, within one of the man's shoes, the heel
of which was high enough to support it. " That," added he, " is a
Bup of gin." After dealing faithfully with him, Samuel knelt by his
side, and supplicated heaven for mercy. " But," says he to a friend
afterwards, " bless your barn,f I could not pray ; the heavens were
like brass ; there was no getting to the other side of them ; and how
was it possible to get over all yon crooks, rusty iron, and hob-nails
heaped up in the corner, which had been collecting for years, and
which, if everybody had their own, were happen none of his."

* As a specimen of what ho had to expect, and of the profusiou of ararioe, the
man saw his nephew and heir, some time prior to this, coming out of a public-housA
opposite to his own, staggering, and thro>viug off the contents of a sickened stomach
as he crossed the street. " See thee," he said to his brother, who was sitting beside
him, "how our money will go, when we are gone; — come, there is a peiini/ — go thee,
and get some ale, and lut us make ourselves comfortable while we Uve." This al»,
by the way, was sold at a penny per quart, which nothing short of sheer want and
fererish thirst could induce a human being to drink. But it was the oorisfoft of a

MISER.

t flam; in Scotland, bairn, for child; an expression very commo:: with Samuel,
in his addresses to both riirh and poor, old and youug.

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 67

During part of the life of two of Martha's sisters, who resided in
Rochdale, he paid an annual visit to them at that town. On one of
these occasions, in 1801 or 1802, while Mr. Percival was stationed ou

the circuit, he went as usual to tender him his respects. Mr. P

engaged him to jjreach in the country the next day, which was the
Sabbath, and a person was appointedto conduct him. Samuel ascended
the pulpit, preached in his accustomed way, but failed to secure the
attention of his rustic hearers. He gave up preaching, and com-
menced a prayer-meeting. It was not long before a person manifested
deep distress, on account of personal guilt. Samuel's companion was
alarmed lest some of the irreligious part of the congregation should
become unruly ; but the service passed off much better than was
anticipated. Samuel called upon Mr. Percival next morning, to inform
him of his Sabbath's excursion ; and in allusion to this and similar
visits, he told the people, after the commencement of missionary meet-
ings, that he had " been a missionary a many years, and had preached
to white heathens in Lancashire." Mrs. P was confined in child-
bed, and IVIr. P himself — ^being without a servant — was preparing

breakfast for the children — eight or nine in number — such a breakfast
as is commonly used by the lower classes of society in Lancashire
and the "West of Yorkshire. Samuel cast an alternate look at the
minister of God, and at his poor children ; his compassion was moved
— it was more than he could support himself under — he retired —
walked about the ground adjoining the house — sighed — wept — prayed.
He knew the price of provisions was high, and board-wages low ; he
Baw the effects. He had but two guineas in his pocket. He re-
turned— divided the sum — and gave Mr. P a guinea.

On his arrival at home, he gave his wife the history of his
journey, together with an account of the manner in which he had
disposed of his money, stating among other particulars, that he had
" lent the Lord a guinea at Rochdale." Martha remonstrated with
him supposing, as others would have done, that he had scarcely
acted with prudence in his generosity, telling him that, in his
circumstances, "half a guinea would have been very handsome."
Samuel replied, in his usual way, with the feelings of one delivered
of a burthen, " Bless thee, my lass, the Lord will soon make it up to
as," which was actually the case a few weeks afterwards, and made
np, it may be added, four-fold. He seemed to have none of those
secondaiij or intermediate sentiments and impressions, which aro
often fatal to better feelings — the creature interposing between tho
Creator and the soul ; and hence it is that we perceive the spring of
most of his movements : he considered himself, in all his charities,
as acting immediately under and /or God — as receiving from Him, and
giving to Him; furnishing a standing, living exemplification of his

r 2

68 . THE VXLLAGfi BLACKSMITH.

faith in, "J was an hungered, and ye gave me meat: inasmuch aa
ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have
done it unto me." *

There was still a degree of mystery hanging around the bene-
volence of Samuel at Rochdale, for which Martha was unable
satisfactorily to account, as she had only allowed what she deemed
the adequate expenses of the journey. But Samuel, supposing he was
pinioned a little too closely for the occasion, paid a stolen visit to his
fi'iend Mr. Rhodes before he set off, requesting the loan of a guinea,
as he had frequently done, saying, "We can set it straight, you
know, at Christmas, when we settle." When Martha came to a
knowledge of this, she remarked, that she had often thought that
Mr. Rhodes' payments appeared but small when compared with the
work which had been done.

In addition to this mortgage-like source, to which he fled on
special occasions, he had a secret place in his shop, where he was
accustomed to deposit a little cash for regular use. Living by the
side of the great north road from London to Edinburgh, he was
constantly receiving visits from objects of distress. On their
appearance, he went to his hoard, and relieved them as his feelings
dictated, and his funds allowed.

On one occasion, he even put his friend Mr. R upon his

mettle in the race of charity. The Rev. J. P., finding that the debt
upon the Pontefract Circuit pressed heavily on the spirits and pockets
of the stewards, resolved to have it either reduced or entirely

liquidated. He accordingly went to Mr. R , among the first, as

a person of property, in full expectation of meeting with encourage-
ment and support. After looking at the case and hesitating some

time, Mr. R dryly said, " You may put me down five shillings."

The reverend applicant's spirits seemed to drop several degrees;
and, with his horizon overcast in the onset, he began to conclude
that the dcl)t was not soon to be removed. Samuel was standing
by, employing his ears and his eyes, but not his voice; and Mi-.

P , turning to him, asked despondingly, " How much will you

give ? " " Put me down a pound," he returned. Mr. P 's spirits

suddenly rose — Samuel stood unmoved, apparently watching the
effect — whUe his wealthy friend started with astonishment, saying,
after a short pause, and in as graceful a manner as possible, " You
will have to put me down the same, I suppose." So much for
the influence of example.

• If was a fine sentiment of the benevok'iit Reynolds, of Bristol, in reply to a lady
who applied to liim on the behalf of an orj'han. After he had piven libomlly, she said,
" Whon he is old I will teach him to name and (hank his bonefnctor." " Stop," saiil
the good man, " thou art mistnkon : %ve do not thank the clouds for the rain. Teach
him to look higher, and thank Um '«ho piveth both the clouds ar.d the raiix."

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 89

He was an utter stranger to the feeling of giving " giudgingly."
His was, in poetic language, a " burning charity ; " like concealed
fire, constantly enlarging, till it actually tears away the surface of the
earth, to let loose the imprisoned flame. It only wanted an object
upon which to expend itself; and as he rarely gave with discretion,
the first applicant generally fared the most bountifully. He was
returning from the pit one day with a load of coals : a little girl
seeing him pass the door, ran towards him, and asked him for a
piece of coal, stating that her mother was confined, and the family
without fire. He stopped the horse — went into the house — made
enquiry into their circumstances — found the tale of the child correct
— brought the cart to the door — and poured down the whole of the
load, free of cost. Having no money upon him to pay for an
additional load, and being apprehensive of a lecture at home for the
abundance of his charity, he returned to the coal-pit, where he knew '
he had credit for twenty times the quantity, re-filled his cart, and
returned home with his soul hymning its way up to heaven, like the
lark breasting the morning breeze, and gladdening the inhabitants
below with his first song. To him it was of no importance what was
the want; idttvere a want, it was sure to be met by him with the first
object calculated to supply it, to which he had any legal claim : and
met, too, with the freedom and sudden gush of a fountain breaking
from the side of a hill, giving forth its streams till its sources are
exhausted by its impetuosity. Of this, his conduct to some soldiers
on the march, during the late war, afibrds perhaps as fine a specimen
as any that can be selected. It was what is termed a "forced
march," and in the height of summer. The regiment being on
its route to the south, a party halted at Micklefield early in the
morning ; the village inn could accommodate but a small portion of
them, and the remainder took their seats on the heaps of stones by
the side of the road. Samuel, as usual, was up early, and sallying
out of his house, he had presented to his view these veterans in
arms. A thrill of loyalty was felt in his bosom, as everything con-
nected with his king, to whom he was passionately attached, was cal-
culated to produce. He instantly returned to the house, and placed
before the men the whole contents of the buttery, pantry, and cellar ;
— bread, cheese, milk, butter, meat, and beer went, and he himself in
the midst of the men, as happy as a king living in the hearts of his
subjects. Though in the very heyday of enjoyment, he looked with
tenderness upon the men, who were about to take the field, and dis-
missed them with his blessing. But he had part of the reckoning
Btill to pay with his partner. Martha came downstairs, and after
engaging in other domestic concerns, proceeded to the buttery, to
skim the milk for breakfast. All had disappeared. Inquiry wac

70 TITE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

made ; and wten she found how the things had been disposed of, she
chided him, saying, " You might have taken the cream off before you
gave it to them." Samuel replied, " Bless thee, bam, it would do
them more good with the cream upon it." The officers of the regi-
ment having heard of his conduct, called upon him to remunera'e
him for what he had done ; but he thanked them for their intentions,
stating that what he had given, he had given freely, and that the
men were welcome to the whole. The tale of Samuel's bounty was
handed from company to company, and lastly from regiment to regi-
ment : and on the plains of Waterloo, some of the brave fellows,
when nearly exhausted through excessive toil, were heard to express
a wish by some who had heard the story, and knew Samuel, that
they again had access to his milk and beer. Little was he aware,
that he would be borne in British hearts from his native shore, and
triumph in those hearts in his deeds of charity, upon the field and in
a struggle that decided the fate of Europe, — be recollected as the
warrior's solace in the hour of peril ! *

Though Samuel received occasional lectures from his good wife on
account of his charities, it was not owing to a want of generous
feeling in her, but to a greater share of prudence : and it was a for-
tunate circumstance for him that he had such a curb at hand ; other-
wise he would have been often seriously involved in his circum-
stances, and, through charity alone, might either have enlarged the
list of bankrupts in the Gazette, or have been led to the workhouse
to subsist on the charity of others. In this, though in the character
of a drawback, she was in reality a help-meet; and by prudenthj
looking forward, was enabled to foresee the possibility of an evil day
of want, and to hide both herself and the children from its calamities,
by a little timely provision. It was not surprising to find Samuel
plunging occasionally, yet innocently, when the reins were drawn a
little more tightly than he wished. An amusing scene of this kind
took place in the domestic circle. He was going out, and had attired
himself in his better garb for public appearance. Not knowing what
demands of justice or of mercy might be made upon him before his
return, he asked his daughter, then at home, and who frequently
acted the part of purse-bearer, for a few shillings. Martha, whoso
hearing was unusually quick on such occasions, was on the look-out.
The two hands were stretc;hed out — that of the daughter to give, and
that of the father to receive— without cither of them being aware
that another eye was upon them. Martha, unpcrccived, glided up to
tlicin like an apparition— passed her arm between them— and, placing

• T/iomn» llmtlrr was one of those bravo iiieu who bore the bnint of (he battUi at
Waterloo, antl whose talc wns afterwarda told to the pubbo in a Memoir entitled—
" The Camp and thu Samctuabi."

IHF, ViLIAGK BLACKSMITH. 71

iicr hand beneath the one containmg the silver, gave it a sudden jerk;
up flew the contents, which suddenly descended in a shower on the
house floor, when Martha, out of seven or eight shillings, secured a
dividend of four.

These little incidents show the man, as well as the necessary
restraints imposed : nor could he be seen without them : and how-
ever sensible the biographer may be of their want of dignity, and
sometimes even of gravity, there is a greater solicitude in " hitting
off the likeness," than in securing fame through the chaste and
classical execution of the work. Samuel, to be known, must be
threaded through every path of private as well as public life ; and
into one of the former he may again be traced, and beheld with
interest, if not with admiration.

He was in the habit of visiting the sick; and as he was no
respecter of persons, he attended people of every persuasion, and in
every rank of life, to whom he could find access. Among others, he
visited the wife of old WiUiam Hemsworth, who died in 1820.
William and his sons having united themselves to the Wesleyan
Society, were in the habit of accompanying Samuel to different
places, in his religious excursions. She, being a rigid Roman
Catholic, looked upon Samuel as a heretic, leading them astray from
the true faith. Affliction at length overtook hei', on her route to the
grave : and, what was not a little singular, she sent for Samuel to
pray with her. His prayers were eff'ectual— her heart was smitten —
the clouds of ignorance and superstition rolled oS" in succession from
her understanding, like mists from the face of a landscape before the
morning sun. On the arrival of the priest, under whose guidance
she had been for a number of years, he was shown to her apartment ;
but instead of waiting for instructions, she upbraided him for not
having inculcated upon her the necessity of the " new birth," stating,
at the same time, that she derived " more good from Sammy Hick's
prayer, than from all that " she " had heard before, and that if " she
recovered, she would "go among the Methodists." The daughter
asked the priest to pray with her mother ; but supposing her too far
gone in heresy for recovery, he retired, saying, " I have done with
her." It is pleasing to add, that the woman died in possession of
•' perfect peace."

Another person of the same persuasion, and nearly at the same
time, resident at Micklefield, was visited by Samuel. The priest and
Samuel accidentally met in the sick man's chamber at the same time;
and in order to effect either the withdrawal or expulsion of the
latter, the priest told the family that he could "not do anything
while Samuel" was present. This was a point which required some
deliberation ; and no o^e appearing forward in the business, the

72 TitF. VILLAOt BLACksMITl?.

reverend gonileman took it upon himself to order Samuel to -walk
out of the house. Samuel, supposing he might be ser\-iceable on the
occasion, observed, " Two are better than one : " but the priest not
according with this sentiment, and the mother of the poor man
declaring — intoxicated meanwhile with liquor — that she could not
8oy her prayers for Sammy Hick, he was obliged to leave. So much
for bigotry and intoxication, linked together like a wedded pair.

He was more useful in visiting a poor aged widow. After encou-
raging and praying with her, he put sixpence into her hand, the siim
total, it is believed, he had upon his person at the time. She appeai'cd
overpowered with gratitude, and he was deeply affected with the
manner in which it was expressed. It suddenly occurred to him, and
he internally accosted himself — " Bless me, can sixpence make a poor
creature happy ? How many sixpences have I spent on this mouth
of mine, in feeding it with tobacco ! I will never take another pipe
whilst I live ; I will give to the poor whatever I save from it." *
From that hour he denied himself. It was not long, however, before
he became seriously indisposed. His medical attendant being either
inclined to tiy the strength of his i-esolutions, or supposing that he
had sustained some injury by suddenly breaking off the use of the
pipe, and, therefore, that he would derive advantage from its re-
edoption, addressed him thus :

Phys. " You must resume the use of the pipe, Mr. Hick."

S(im. " Never more, Sir, while I live."

Phys. "It is essential to your restoration to health, and I
cannot be answerable for consequences, should you reject the advice
given."

Sam. " Let come what will, I'll never take another pipe : I've told
my Lord so, and I'll abide by it."

P/iys. " You will, in all probability, die then."

Sam. " Glory be to God for that ! I shall go to heaven ; I have
made a vcw, and I'll keep it."

His medical adviser found him unllinching in tiie face of danger,
and as he recovei-ed from his illness, he more readily attributed

• Two of the brcthrcu wore amusing themselves with his costume on one occasion,
in the house of a frieml, advising him to make a slender addition to his habiliments,
by way of braciujj tlieni a little tighter. He did not seem to relish tlicir remarks ;
but sometimes hit upon a method of reckoning with his innocent opponents, when il
was as unexpected to them, as unpremeditated with respect to himself. He appeared
»i)ou after on the platform, in company with the two fjentlemen, and advertiugr t<'
tlioir remarks, and the crpdijio they purposed to laid him into, observed — " It wouM
be well if Ihcj were to bo','iii to curtail their own cxpeudituro, instead of advisinit
othfTfi to launch into more: lus for Mr. Atherton," he continued, " he smokes tobacco
till he is black n^ain ; and Mr. Lanca.<;tcr, take.i as much snufl' as would choke uiv
pit; ! " Here tln" bnKuu'e was ntnu'k ; aud wbit Samuel had lost in the parlour, hf
L'liued on the pl.ttfiii'Mi, thouj^h less alive to the sniilu excited in the latter iustana*
tb.iu in the former.

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 73

the prolongation of life to the honour which God had conferred
upon him for his solf-dcnial, than to the most efficacious medicine
that could be administered.

This fearlessness, for which he was indebted both to nature and
grace, produced, on one occasion, a happy effect. He had been at
Askem Spaw, with Martha, some time in 1816, and on his return
home, took occasion to stand up in the cart, before he reached
Norton, to throw his great coat over her, in order to prevent her
from taking cold during her exposure to the open air. Just at
that moment the horse took fright — Samuel lost his balance, fell
backward out of the cart, and pitched upon his shoulder. He sus-
tained considerable injury, and when raised from the ground was
unable to stand erect. He was conveyed with some difficulty to
the village, on reaching which a medical gentleman was sent for,
who deemed it advisable not to bleed him, though urged to it by
him. "lam very ill. Sir," said Samuel, "and must be bled." The
surgeon replied, "If you are bled at present, you will die." " Die
— die. Sir," was returned. "What is death to me? I am not
afraid of dying. I have nothing to do but to make my will ; and I
can make it in two minutes ; there are plenty of witnesses. My
money shall be disposed of so and so," naming in a few brief
sentences the manner; then stretching out his great arm, as he
did on a subsequent occasion, he said, " Live or die, I will be bled.'
The gentleman, hojjing the best, opened the vein, and took a basin
of blood from him Not satisfied, Samuel stretched forth the
other arm, and said, "I will be bled in this also." His attendant
again complied with his wish, and took from him a second basin
fuU. " When he did this," Samuel observed, " the pain went away
as nice as aught." On the bandages being properly adjusted, Samuel
said, " Now, doctor, you have been made a blessing to my body ; I
will beg of God to bless your soul." So saying, he knelt in his usual
hurried way, and devoutly prayed for his benefactor. The surgeon,
on rising, remarked, " I never had such a patient as you in the whole
course of my practice : " and then inquired his name and place of
abode, to which Samuel distinctly replied, hitching in at the close,
" I come here to preach sometimes." This led to an invitation to the
liouse of the surgeon, the next time he should visit the village ; to
which Samuel readily acceded, stating afterwards to a fHend, that he
" was glad of it," for he " wanted a good inn there." Accordingly,
the next time he was appointed to preach in the village, he rode up
to the sui'geon's door, was hospitably entertained, and had both the
surgeon himself and his family as hearers. The house in which be
preached was exceedingly crowded : and, on returning with the
family, he accosted his host, — " You see, dcjctor, how uncomfort-

7i> TllE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

able we are. We ought to have a chapel. The stone is the Iiord's
— the -wood is the Lord's — and the money is the Lord's." The
gentleman took the hint ; and with a heart as ready to improve
upon it as he had acuteness to perceive it, offered a subscrii)tion
to set the work in motion. Samuel instantly proceeded to solicit
subscriptions from others ; and out of this misfortune arose a Wes-
leyan Methodist chapel. In that chapel Samuel had the pleasure
of holding forth the Word of life. It may be added, that so much
delighted was the gentleman with the patience, fortitude, and con-
versation of Samuel; and connecting with it his intention to leave
home two or three times before he was sent for, but still unaccount-
ably detained, without being able to assign any reason, till
Samuel's messenger arrived ; he was led to acknowledge a supreme
I)Ower, and to perceive a vitality in the influence of religion upon
the heart, which he had neither previously known nor confessed.

Prodigal as Samuel was in some of his charities towards persons
in great need, and who were likely to make a proper use of them,
there were seasons when he seemed to be invested with discre-
tional power, beneficial to the recipient. A poor man had lost a
liorse by sickness. Samuel, who was " a servant of all work," in
the begging line, went round the neighbourhood and collected
money for the purchase of another. This amounted to a guinea
more than the value of the animal — a sum of less than twenty shillings
being sufficient to purchase another equally poor to replace it. Tlie
man himself, though a professor of religion, was less entitled to
Samuel's confidence than his benevolence ; and to show how low he
stood, by the small degree of prosperity he was capable of sustaining,
Samuel, speaking of him to a friend, said, " I did not give him the
guinea all at once ; I gave it him as I thought he needed it ; for bless
you, barn, you see he could not bear prosperity." The notion of
" prosper ihj" being appended to so small a sum, is worthy of being
preserved as a memento, emanating from a mind which was itself
stamped by it as a still greater curiosity.

Benevolence of heart, though connected with slender personal
means, is often of greater value to a neighbourhood, in such a man as
Samuel Hick, than the opulence of others. A female who resided
about a mile from his house, was extremely poor, and hastening,
through consumption, to an invisible world. When her case became
known, he went to Aberford, applied to several respectable people,
stated her circumstances, and solicited a variety of things which he
deemed suitable (nr her relief and support. Aware of the hunoiir
which God puts upon liiitli, agiocabiy to the dcclaralion of our Lord
to the bUiid mail— " According to your faitii be it unto you," — lie
provided hinisell' befui'uhund, in the strength of his confidence, with

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 75

a basket ; which, together with his pocket, was replenished on hia
return, having between twenty and thirty shillings in the one, —
muffins, bread, butter, sugar, and a shoulder of mutton, in the other
Careful Martha, who was never backward in rare cases, as has been
perceived, and would have done more in such as were less necessitous,
had she not known that Samuel's benevolence was more than sufficient
for both, added her half-crown to the moneys collected ; and Samuel,
with his basket by his side, set off to the cottage of this daughter of
affliction, and was received like the angel of plenty in the time of
famine.

" His heart was melted," says Mr. Dawson, " at the tale of wo^.
He could not hear of persons in distress, without weeping overtheai;
and, if they were within his reach, he relieved them according to his
ability, applying also to others more affluent than himself, to assist
in such works of mercy. If ever a person answered to the character of
the liberal man, who devises liberal things, Samuel Hick was that man.
The highest luxury that he could enjoy, was to deal out bread to the
hungry, to bring the poor into his house that were cast out, to cover
the naked, and to satisfy the afflicted soul. Then it was that he felt
the truth of that sentence, " It is more blessed to give than to
receive."

But if one object of charity was more paramount than another in
his affections and exertions, it was that of Christian missions ; — a
charity on the broadest scale, which blends all the miseries of time
with the glories of eternity, alleviating the one by the contemplation
of the other ; — a charity which looks at the whole man in all the
relations of life ; — a charity whose object is the destruction of siri —
that which, like the pestilential vapour, blights the whole harvest of
human hope and comfort, and carrying the seeds of destruction into
every source of prosperity, reduces society to the condition of a tree
withered to the root ; — a charity, in short, occasioned by " Paradise
Regained." So far back as the period when the late Dr. Coke com-
menced what has been teraied the " diaidgery of begging," Samuel
gave him half a guinea for the support of the missions ; and this,
considering the scanty means he had then at command, and the small
number of missionaries employed, would not have disgraced the
" Reports " of modern times. But it was not till the public medin'js
commenced at Leeds,* and elsewhere, that his soul, as though it had

* The biographer has had too deep an interest in these meetings, not to rccolloct
the influence of their beginnings upon his own mind.

It is ditRciilt precisely to determine at this distance of time, with whom the first
thought originated, or what was the first sentence that led to them. Mr. Scarth, of
Leeds, repeatedly remarked to Mr. Dawson, hejore Dr. Coke took his departure for
India, "The missionary cause must be taken out of the doctor's hand ; it must be
made a pullic — a common oauj«." It is not impossible, that this may have l-ccu the

76 TIIE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

been in bondage before — for such was the change — bounded off, and
expatiated at full liberty. Here he had ample scope for the finest, the
fullest, and the deepest philanthropic feelings of his heart ; and for
many miles round his own homestead, it was rare not to see his face
turn up in the crowd, like the image on a favourite medal, which is
the pride and boast of the antiquary, and fixes the eye of the spectator
much sooner than most of the others which adorn his cabinet.

germ of tlic wliole. The Dissenters had a piiljlic meeting in Leeds, a few months
X)reviou8 to the first public oue among the Wesleyans. This havin? been held in the
course of the summer, Messrs. Scarth and Turkington visited the Conference, and
expressed their views on the subject to the Rev. George Marsden, stating that somethiii'j
should be done in a more public way for the missionary interest belonging to their own
body. AVith their views Mr. M. perfectly coincided. "When the embarrassed state of
the missionary society came before the Conference, there appeared to be no alternative
between reduciug the preachers at home or the missionaries abroad. There was too
much zeal and liberality in the body to permit either. The subject was one of deep
interest ; and did not die at Conference. Mr. Morley, the Leeds superintendent,
thought that if the Dissenters could raise a Missionary Meeting, the Methodists might
also; and accordingly suggested the subject to liis colleagues, who promptly and
zealously entered into his views. Not satisfied with commencing this " iieiu thing " in
Methodism on their own responsibility, they were desirous of knowing how far the
proposal of a public meeting would meet with the countenance of others of their
brethren. Braniley having been hut recently divided from Leeds circuit — a close
union still subsisting between them — and being contiguous to each other, these
gentlemen proceeded tliither with a view to dehberate with the Eev. W. Naylor and
the biographer, who were then stationed on the Bramley circuit. No persuasion was
requisite ; the propriety, necessity, and practicability of the measure were manifest at
once. Tlie Leeds and the Bramley preachers thus took the first decisive and active
etep in the work, which has since l>een carried on to such an extent. A corresponding
chord wa.s soon found to vibrate with pleasure in the breasts of the Eev. Messrs. R.
Watson and J. Buckley, of the Wakefield circuit : and they were followed by Messrs.
Eeece and Atmore, of the Bradford and Halifax circuits, who both exulted in the
prospect of so ample an harvest of good. Oue of Mr. Morley's colleagues, Mr.
Bunting, organized the first plan — Mr. Watson wrote the first address — Mr. Buckley
preached the first scnnon on the occasion at Armley, a place belonging to the Bramley
circuit— and the first public meeting was held in the old chapel at Leeds, — T. Thoinpson«
Esq., M.P., in the chair.

The meetings were at first beheld by some of the brethren as the dotage of
enthusiasm, and as the forenmners of a marriage union with the world. But they
became so productive, and were so instrumental in producing good to the contributors,
that the most sturdy opponents were not unfrcqucntly found afterwards ?a tbo chtir
dolivcring their recantatioju

TUi. VILLAGL BLiCKSJllin. 7?

CHAPTER YII.

Eifl patriotic feeling — Mgh price of provisions— differs with Mr. Pawaon for prognos-
ticating evil — letter to the Eev. Edward Irving on prophecy — threatened invasion
of Buonaparte — an address to the King— Samuel's loyalty— M. A. Taylor, Esq. —
the suppression of a religious assembly — defence of a religious revival — his
interview with Mr. Taylor — obtains a licence to preach — an allusion to him in a
parliamentary debate.

A MAN like Samuel Hick, whose mind was so thoroughly imbued with
Divine grace, was not Likely to be defective in what is termed
nationality, and the still more scriptiu-al principle of loyalty. Never
did a Jew, by the rivers of Babylon, reflect with greater tenderaess
upon Judffia, "ia a strange land," than he did upon his country
which he was in the habit of designating " our island " — " onr
England," always considering himself as having a personal interest at
stake in all its affairs ; and never did a subject in any realm pour out
with greater sincerity and fervour the prayer — " God save the Eling."
During one of Mr. Pawson's appointments in the Leeds circuit,
Samuel observes, " Corn was very dear. The poor people went round
our town with a half-guinea in their hands, and could not get a stroke
of corn for it. Mr. Pawson came to Sturton Grange to preach, and
while preaching, he told his congregation that there would be a
famine in our land, and that he had seen it coming on for twenty
years." Such a prophecy, from such a prophet — a man whom, like
all other "Wesleyan ministers, he considered an apostle of God — and
in reference to his own land, " of every land the pride," could not but
awaken in him strange emotions. "Without attempting to endue Mr.
Pawson with the gift of prophecy, it is probable that he might
intimate to his congregation, that he had sighed over the extreme
wickedness of the wicked — having been touched by it — that, from the
poignancy of his feelings, he foreboded some manifestation of the
Divine displeasure — and by way of improving the subject, in order to
lead the dissolute to repentance, prayer, and reformation, might lay
hold of passing events in such a way as to lead Samuel — who, inap-
pr^ensive of his meaning, and not taking in the whole of the connect-
ing Unks of thought, — to draw the inference stated.

• strike, a bushel. In the West of Yorkshire, a strike is two })ecks or a half bushel ;
hence the high price of gruiu referred to, when poor people could not obtuiin a h/i>f
lushel, for a ha\f guinta.

78 TIIK VILT.AGE BLACKSMITH.

Samuel returned nome reriecting on what he conceived to be Mr.
Pawson's view of the subject ; and the following extract will show
the acuteness of his feelings, his simplicity, and his piety. " I began,"
says he, " to be very miserable ; and as my children were small, I
thought it would be a sore thing for them, my wife, and myself to be
pined to death. When I got home, I went into my closet to enquire
of the Lord, whether there would be a famine or no ; and while I was
pleading, I got as fair an answer from the Lord, that there would be
no famine, as when he pardoned my sins and cleansed my soul. I
saw that there was plenty of corn to supply till harvest. But this did
not satisfy me : I told my wife that I could not rest till I went to
inform the preacher that there would be no famine in the land. I set
off for Sturton ; and when I got there, I told that dear woman of
God, Mrs. Ward, my errand." Mrs. W. very properly interposed,
not only on account of the lateness of the hour, which appears to
have been on the same evening after preaching — but by delicately
suggesting the impropriety there would be in " his pretending to
dictate to one of the first preachers in the Connexion." But Samuel
was not to be repulsed by either first or second, whether the claim
instituted referred to the priority of time or superiority of talent. He
had his one argument at hand — " Thus saith the Lord ;" and proceeds,
" I told her not to blame me, for it was the Lord that sent me. With
a deal to do she let me into the room ; and I told our brother Pawson,
that the Lord had sent me to inform him that there would be no
famine in the land." Mr. Pawson, whose forebodings were scarcely
removed, replied, "Well, brother, I shall be very thankful to the
Lord, to find it not so." Samuel taking a little credit for the correct-
ness of his own judgment and impression in the case, and still firm
in his belief in the actual impression of a famine, adds, " So we see
how good men may miss their way, for there was no famine." To
persons whose feelings are not immediately interested, it is sometimes
ttrausing to hear well-meaning men, without a prophetic soul, guessing
against each other for their Maker. In the present case, Samuel's
conduct in going to " enquire of the Lord," manifested a spirit worthy
the most simple, the purest, and best of patriarchal times : and as
they were chiefly his ow7i fears that had to bo allayed, the impression
that effected their removal, was so far — all prophecy on the occasion
apart — an act of mercy — mercy manifested in the exercise of prayer.

He availed himself of this supposed prophetic failure of Mr.
Pawson, February 28, 182G, when ho addressed a letter to the Rev.^E.
Irving, who had then reached the acme of his oratorical attractions,
though not of his theological reveries ; and who, as Samuel had been
informed, had been prognosticating national calamities because of
national wickednos.<?. The original, which is in the writer's possea-

THE VILLAGK BLACKSMITH. 79

sion, is a CTiriosity, and would, if printed as it flowed from his pen,
exemplify the estimate given of his mind in the preceding pages.
"With the exception of a few transpositions, retrenchments in verbiage,
and the occasional substitution of a word, the following may be con-
sidered as an allowable copy : —

" Dear Brother Irving, the Prophet in London, —

" I am informed that you have prophesied that this island is hown
to come to desolation ; but I think you should put a condition to your
prophecy, viz., that if the people humble themselves, pray, and turn
from their wicked ways, then God will hear from heaven, pardon their
sins, and will heal the land. When the prophet Jonah went to preach
at Nineveh, the whole of the people of the city humbled themselves
and prayed to God; and God heard their prayer, and saved them
from destruction. If there had been ten righteous souls in the cities
of Sodom and Gomorrah, when they were destroyed, in which there
were so many thousands of men, women, and childi'en, they would
not have suffered ; and I fully believe, that if Abraham had pleaded
on, the Lord would have saved the cities for his servant's sake ; but
he gave up pleading, and then they were consumed.

"But I have to inform you, Sir, that there are more than ten
righteous men in a city ; for the Uttle one has become a thousand,
and the small one a strong nation. We have our Moseses, and our
Elijahs, and our Daniels, in our island, who are all pleading. We
have thousands of children trained up to fear God and honour
the king. We have Bible Societies, Missionary Meetings, and
Tract Societies. These four institutions are the Lord's ; and this
island is the Lord's nursery, in which he raises up plants to plant the
Gospel in all the world, in order to be a witness unto aU nations.
Then the wickedness of the wicked shall come to an end — all shall
know the Lord, from the least to the greatest — nations shall learn
war no more — and the whole earth shall be filled with the glory of
God.

" The Pope prophesied, in years past and gone,* that he should get
back the inheritance of his forefathers, be set upon the British throne,
and have all the churches restored : but that will never come to pass ;
God will never suffer the Pope to govern his nursery or plantation.
We shall be governed by peaceable governors. We shall have peace
and plenty. The year that has passed has been a plaintiful one for
temporal food ; and I trust, before we see the end of this, we shall
find it to have been one of the best we ever had for spiritual food —

• Samuel met with a man in one of his journeys, who avowed his belief in the
RomoM Catholic creed, and his faith, also, in the restoration of the cathednls and
churches to the papal state. The public mind was considenibly agitated at the sau«
time with the CathoUc question, and the impression produced by both, led him, pro-
bably, to introduce hii Holine8a to Mr. Irving.

80 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

that many will be brought to the knowledge of Gud — and that we shall
gee the downfall of infidelity.

" I have known good men miss their way in my day, by their pro-
phecies. The prophets foretold that there should be wars and
rumours of wars in the latter days, and that nation should rise up
against nation. There has been such destruction as never was before.
But these days were to be shortened for the elect's sake."

Then follows his account of what he denominates Mr. Pawson's
prophecy, appending to it the case of another person, who, he
observes, "prophesied that our island would be covered with war
and bloodshed," and, as a precautionary measure, " took his family to
America, where he purchased a large estate." But, continued
Samuel, "these were foolish prophecies and false pi'ophets, and I
firmly believe yours will prove to be like them. WhUe we continue
to honour God, by sending the Gospel to the poor perishing heathen,
by keeping up our noble Bible and Tract Societies, and Sunday
Schools, we shall neither have pestilence, famine, nor shall the sword
be permitted to go thi'ough the land. And although there is at pre-
sent a gi'eat stagnation of trade and commerce, yet there is a remedy
for us, on certain conditions. It is not a prophet, nor an archangel,
but God that made the world, and all that therein is, who says, If I
shut up heaven, that there be no rain, or, if I send a pestilence, if my
people that is called by my name will humble themselves, and turn
from their wicked ways, I will pardon their sins and will heal their land.
This is the case. Persons are turning from their sins every day.
Judgment is mixed with mercy. England is one of the first islands
in the world. We have liberty of conscience — we have peace — and I
hope trade and commerce will again revive, and that the suflering
poor will have plenty of work, to enable them to earn bread for their
families."

There is not the slightest intention in the writer to bring the
" Village Blacksmith " into the arena of controversy, with a view to
place him in polemic array against Mr. Irving ; nor need Mr. Irving
be ashamed of the association, as a few of Samuel's positions are as
tenable as some of those with which he has favoured the world in his
more recent publications. Proceeding on the correctness of Samuel's
information, which is only assumed for the occasion, his suggestion
relative to the propriety of annexing conJitlons to threatenings, and
the support which he professes to derive for this suggestion from the
case of Nineveh, is worthy of respect. His application of the subject
to Britain, which he illustrates by the case of Sodom and Gomorrah,
showing the superiority of the one over the other — Britain with her
multitude of intercessors actually engaged at the throne of grace, her
Christian philanthropy, as exhibited in her institutions, and the

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 81

probable increase of conversions to God through the instrumentaUty
of Sunday Schools — and the cities of the plain without their " ten
righteous" characters — deducing from the whole the probability of our
safety, shows that he was in possession of correct scriptural notions ;
though they often radiated in different dii-ections, like so many
scattered rays of light, he being unable to employ them to the best
advantage, and therefore not always falling with fulness on the point
to be illuminated. The act, too, of pressing the late revolutionary
wars into his service, which he considered to be no other than the
" nimours of wars " mentioned in scripture, by way of showing the
difference between ancient and modern prophetic pretensions — the
one having been fulfilled, and the other remaining unaccomplished —
and his attempts to rescue the prevailing commercial distress out of
Air. Irving's hands, that he might not avail himself of it in support
of his predicted judgments, intimate a quickness of intellect, though
unequal to that which precedes. But the latter is given chiefly with
a view to show the manner in which his thoughts moved, when ven-
turing beyond the precincts of a few brief sentences ; and for this
purpose, too, as well as that of honouring the feelings of his heart,
his addi'ess to his Majesty George III. may be introduced.

At the time when Buonaparte threatened to invade England, there
were great "searchings of heart." Samuel was among the sufferers
in spirit. When fear was at its height, he retired into the fields, like
the prophet to the summit of a solitary mountain, to intercede with
his Maker ; and he there received what set his own mind at rest — an
assurance that our shores would never be either printed or polluted
by the foot of the enemy. From that period he went on his way
rejoicing, and in the strength of his confidence, his patriotic and loyal
feeling, he wrote the address just alluded to, the substance of which
is as follows : — " 0 King, live for ever ! Let not your heart be
troubled, nor your countenance be changed; for that God whose
church and cause you have defended will also defend you, and deUver
you from the lion and the bear, and also from this uncircumcised
Philistine ; for he shall never set his foot upon English ground. And
if your Majesty the King wants a regiment of life-guards to defend
your person, your property, or your nation, God will raise them up
from the Church of Christ, and I will go in the forefront ; and, like
Gideon's army, with their lamps in pitchers, one of these will chase a
thousand, and two ^vill put ten thousand to flight. And if your
Majesty the King wants any money to support or defend your person,
your property, or your nation, I am now possessed of £600, and your
Majesty shall have every shilling of it. "When I began the world, I
had not a penny, nor a bite of bread to put in my mouth, and I will
again begin the world as naked as at first. And that God whom I

H9 THE \1LLAGE BLACKSMITH.

love and serve, will never suffer the crown to be taken from year
Majesty, til] he shall crown you with immortality and eternal life."

Whether the letter ever reached his Majesty is doubtful, not only
because of the medium through which it was conveyed, but from the
known chai-acter of that venerable monarch ; as it i.s more than pro-
bable, that, from the novelty of the occasion, he would have conde-
scended, not to accept the offer, but to pay respect to the generous
emotions which emanated from the bosom of such a subject ; and the
more so, as the name of Hick was not unfamiliar to the royal ear.
Samuel had a brother-in-law,* who was groom in the stables at
Windsor, and to whom his Majesty paid personal attention. Having
been absent from his post through indisposition, his Majesty, on per-
ceiving it, inquired, in his hasty manner, "Where is Hick? Where
is Hick ? " When informed that he was ill, the royal inquiry was,
" Has he had medical aid?" instantly adding, "if not, let him have
it immediately." But the sufferer died; and Mr. Dawson observes,
*' I have been informed, that his widow was the object of his Majesty's
attention and bom fcv." Samuel, by n>eans of his brother-in-law, had
acquired that knowledge of his Majesty's private character, which
inspired him with veneration. This feeling led him to Windsor,
during his last visit to the metropolis: but of all the objects presented
to the eye of a stranger, nothing fixed his attention so much as the
house of his God; and in that house, not anything yielded such
I'apture as the cushion upon which the royal personage had been
accustomed regularly to perform his devotional exercises. On that
cushion Samuel devoutly knelt ; and as he could throw his whole
soul into that prayer, " Give the king thy judgments, 0 God ;" so he
could as heartily add, " and thy righteousness unto the king's son :"
and hence it was, that when George III. resigned his crown, he
transferred his loyal affection to George IV.

While the letter shows the piety, the loyalty, and the liberality of
its writer, together with the occasionally beautiful adaptation of
scriptural language and scriptural metaphor to the subject in hand,
for which he was sometimes so happy, and which, in some instances,
could not have been more felicitously introduced by our first divines,
we arc not less impressed with his contracted views, and amused with
his notions of generalship. For though Roman history has fami-
liarised us with an instance of one of its first characters having been
summoned from the plough to figure in arms, yet we are not quite
prepared to see Samuel throwing aside the leathern apron for regi-
mentals— to sec him brandishing the sword, heading a troop of
soldiers, and cutting his way through the ranks of the enemy. His
baud was b.ltcr adiipted to the grasp of the hammer than the nnisket,
• ITis wife's brother, whose maiden nmme wm flick

THB VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 88

and his heart — which would have sickened at cruelty to a beetle —
would have sooner led him to heal than to wound. The estimate ho
formed of his prowess was what would have suited his state when he
silenced the clergyman in the presence of Mr. Burdsall. He would
now have much sooner stripped, and turned up his shirt sleeves, in
front of the anvil, to beat swords into plough- shares, and spears into
pruning-hooks, than have girded himself for the fight : and it is
questionable whether he had any intention in the case, besides that
of appearing, like the monks of Bangor before Ethelfrith, accoutred,
not with " carnal " weapons, but with " the whole armour of God,"
which, in his own estimation, was more fitted for " the pulling down
of strong holds," than any other instrument that could be invented,
whether by a Congreve or an Archimedes. If he had any views
beyond those of combating the assailants with the weapons o^ faith
and prayer, we can only marvel at the difierence between him and
John Nelson, whom he heard preach at Aberford Cross ; who, when
impressed for a soldier, said to those who were decking him in mili-
tary attire, " You may array me as a man of war, but I shall never
fight." But whether Samuel had taken the field or not, he would
have given the £600 as cheerfully as he ever gave sixpence to a desti-
tute widow.

Leaving the great continental field, where the thunderbolt of war
was seen turning up the soil Uke a ploughshare, and where the mili-
tary tempest appeared to be gradually clearing the air and settling
the political atmosphere — with which events it would have appeared
ridiculous to name such an insignificant being as Samuel, had it not
been for his loyal address — we shall direct our attention to a slight
skirmish of another description, nearer his own homestead, and sec
how he was skilled in the military tactics requisite for the occasion.
" I remember," he observes, " a great out-pouring of the Lord's
Spirit at Ledstone, near where I resided ; and in that town there
lived a parliament man, who was a justice of the peace." This " par-
liament man " was no other than Michael Angelo Taylor, Esq., who
has distinguished himself in the senate on several measures for the
amehoration of the metropolitan police, and different other questions.
One evening during the revival referred to, Mr. T. was passing the
place which was licensed for preaching, and in which the jjeople were
met for public worship. On hearing an unusual noise, he stepped up
to the door ; and not being over and above skilled in the science of
salvation, or having his ear tuned for the music of penitential groans,
he, according to the testimony of Samuel, " stamped and swore,"
calling out meanwhile for a "constable." Mr. T. addressed a farmer
who acted ia that capacity, and told him that he would have no such
disturbance in the parish. A good sister who was present began to

0 2

84 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

pray for Mr. T., repeating several times, " Lord bless him." Mr. T.,
on the other hand, elevating his voice to an imusual pitch, told her to
cease her noise, "but she," says Sanmel, "like the blind man, cried
out the more." Mr. T., however, at length succeeded in " breaking
up {he meeting." This was a severe trial to Samuel, who says, " I
went home, but could get but very little rest. The next morning I
went to our class-leader, and told him that I could not rest till I went
to Mr. T. to inform him he had broken the laws of our land.'' His
class-leader was Mr. Rhodes, who, partly to deter Samuel from an
impression of the possibility of the case, hinted that Mr. T. would
commit him to the House of Correction. Samuel replied, " I have
the Lord on my side, and the law on my side, and I do not fear the
face of man." His firmness gave confidence to Mr. Rhodes, who
agreed to accompany him. They both set off, and arriving at Mr. T.'s
before he had -^lome down stairs in the morning, were ushered into
the presence-cnamber. Mr. T., on descending to breakfast, had been
informed of their visit. On entering the room, he had, says Samuel,
" a very stormy countenance." The substance of the conversation, as
left on record, is as follows : —

Mr. T. " Well, Hick, what do you want ? "

Samuel. *' I want, if you please, to worship God under my own
viijc and fig-tree, no man daring to make me afraid, or disturb me in
the worship of God. And, Sir, I am come to inform you, as one of
his Majesty's ^eace-makers, that last nigiit you broke the laws of the
laud, and the law stands in force against you. But we, as a body of
people, do not love law. We are determined, however, to have the
liberty our king grants us. The place which we were worshipping in
is from the king, as it is licensed ; and I believe there is a double
penalty for your breaking the law."

Ml'. T. •' I know you very well. You are in the habit of tra-
velling from place to place to preach ; but I have the outline of a
Bill, which will be brought into Parliament, and which will at once
put a stop to all such fellows, and prevent them from going about.
I will make you remain in your own parish, and go to jour own
church."

Sam. " Bless the Lord I Sir, you cannot stop us. It is the work
of God ; and unless you can prevent the sun from shining, you cannot
stop us. You say you will make us go to our own parish church. It
is more than three miles oil'. It is true wc have a chaprl of ease ; but
the minister comes to it only twice in tho year : and wc cannot live,
Sir, with such food as this : " that is, with so small a portion.

Mr. T. " What, have you only two scrraons preached in tlio
year?"

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 85

Sam. "No, Sir ; and he would not have come then, only he
cannot get his Easter Dues without coming."

Here the servant in attendance, and Mr. Rhodes, could support it
no louger, but burst into u fit of laughter, and left the room. Mr.
Taylor, who appeared not to have known that the place was licensed
in which he was the night before, and to have assumed the character
of sternness for tlie purpose of drawing Samuel out into conversation,
called upon Mr. Rhodes to enter the room again, asking why he went
out. Mr. R. apologised, and stated that he could not refrain from
laughing, and withdrew to avoid a breach in good behaviour. Mr. T.
accosting him, said, '• You know, Mr. Rhodes, the old man wants a
license to preach. This I cannot grant in my individual capacity.
But he and you may go to Bradford next Thursday ; ask for the clerk
of the court, and tell him you want a license for a dissenting minister.
He will there receive it ; and if, after that, any one should disturb
either of you, inform me, and I will defend you." This was too much
for Samuel to bear in silence ; and without suffering Mr. R. to reply,
he permitted that chord of the heart which had just been struck to
give out its fullest and wildest tones, saluting Mr. T. with, " Bless
the Lord ! they give you a sore character in our country, but I think
you are not so bad as they say you are." This by a thousand men
would have been taken, as it might have been given, as an insult.
But Mr. T., as he knew Samuel, had the good sense to give to it its
real value, and passed it off in pleasantry. After this, proceeds'
Samuel, " I believe he would have granted me any favour. He sent
down to the farmer also, in whose house the meeting was held, and
told him if he was in want of anything from his house or gardens,
it should be at his service. So we see, when a man's ways please
the Lord, he makes his enemies to be at peace with him.

Samuel went too far in considering Mr. T. an enemy ; for had he
really been such, he would have pursued a different line of con-
duct. Simple, however, as the whole of this occurrence was, suffi-
cient matter arose out of it to attract the British senate ; for as
the " two sermons " per annum, in a " chapel of ease," led from the
easy character of the labour to an investigation of other instances
of gross neglect, so it gave Mr. T. an opportunity of stating in tha
house the necessity there was for the ecclesiastical authorities to
enquire whether the different places belonging to the establishment
were supplied with religious instructors, noticing the case of which
he was informed by Samuel, arguing from thence that it was not
to be wondered that a "blacksmith" in Yorkshire should apply 'o
him for a license to authorize him to preach as a dissenting minister.
When one of the newspapers was handed to Samuel, in which the

86 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

fact was stated, and the allusion made, he was not a little elated
and in his simplicity could even connect with the circumstance, in
a way which no one beside himself could do, the " government
churches" which were soon afterwards erected; and would have as
soon — for such was his knowledge of the politics and ecclesiastical
history of the day — attributed every new edifice to that as to any
other cause. Though some of these goodly structures were not
very well attended, he was far from viewing them as useless :
" They will be ready," said he, " for the millennium when it comes,
for we shall want them then : " not that he really wished any other
religious body to enjoy them ; but he was confident that they were
not erected in vain. He generally spoke respectfully of the Church
of England, and indulged a pleasing hope that she would rise to be
more holy, active, and useful than she had ever been.

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 87

CHAPTER Yin.

Hie power In prayer — divine impression — an aflBicting providence — remarkaLle answer*
to prayer — familiar expressions in prayer to be avoided — encounters a blacksmith
— his usefulness — his meekness under persecution— singular method of self-
defence against the aspersions of a clergyman — musical festivals — Mr. Bradbum
—love-feast — perfection — seasonable remarks— the doctrine of sanctiiication main-
tained in opposition to a clergyman — cheerful disposition — indiscretionate zeal iu
a meeting convened by the Society of Frieuds.

That which imparted real elevation of character to Samuel was his
strong faith, and his power with God in prayer ; and here it is that
he was seen rising out of the habiliments of the blacksmith, — sur-
rounded by the visitants, stunned with the din, and enveloped in the
smoke of the smithy, — like a being belonging to another world,
gradually unfolding himself, or suddenly breaking upon the specta-
tors in the true spirit of an angel of light. A few instances have
been adduced of his power in prayer on his own behalf; but he has
still to be viewed in the character of a successful intercessoi-.

He had an impression upon his mind one day that he ought to go
to the coal-pit, for what he termed "a load of sleek."* But having a
tolerable stock in the smithy, he hesitated and attempted to suppress
it. The impression was renewed, and — " Go, go," was reiterated, as
by a voice from within. " I'll pray about it," said he to himself.
But "go," was still the language which he seemed to hear while
engaged upon his knees. He rose and told his wife he was going for
a load of " sleek." She, as was natural, opposed him, pointing to the
heap in the smithy as a substantial reason why he should stop at
home. But his argument was in his heart, and to this he attended,
yoking the horse to the cart, and di-iving off to the pit, without any-
thing to support his conduct except the naked impression specified.
On reaching the spot, a person exclaimed, in a state of great trepida-
tion, "Aye, Sammy, you are well come ; such an one (mentioning the
person's name) has been nearly killed, and we want j-ou to pray with
him ! " The poor sufferer had just been brouglit up from the pit
when he arrived ; and the persons around him were al)out to extract
a piece of wood, which had fallen upon him, penetrated his shoulder,
and forced its way, like the spear of Abner, through the opposite

* Thn refuse or smaller part of the coal used in fumaces, Jtc

88 THE VILIAGE BIJlCKSMITH.

side of his body. On perceiving their intentions from their conduct,
Samuel said, in a hurried tone, " Do not take it out ; if you do, he
will die in a moment." * The spirit of prayer was the element in
which he breathed ; and for such employment he was always ready.
He knelt by the side of the poor man, wrestled with God for liis
salvation, and obtained satisfactory evidence of an answer to the
petitions he presented at the throne of grace. " I now saw," says
he, " for what it was that I had to go to the pit." And yet with this
result there are persons professing the Christian name who would
denounce the impression as enthusiastic, and who would, together
with the calamity, insert his being at the pit at that precise period in
the chapter of accidents, which occupies in their estimation so large
a share of the business of human life. Only preserve religion in
the background, or abstract it entirely from the subject, and these
persons will talk, both seriously and poetically, of the mind being
darkened, like the sunny landscape, by a sudden cloud, auguring a
coming tempest ; and of such impulses deserving attention, as being
the hints of our guardian spirits that danger is impending. All
this is allowable in verse, and the poet is admired for the sentiment,
while the heathen philosopher is permitted to descant upon it in
prose ; but the moment the man of God asserts the fact — from whom
the others have received it, either directly or remotely, and after-
wards marred, by lowering it — he must be sent through the world
with the brand of an enthusiast upon his forehead ! This incident in
his history would, in all probability, never have taken place had he
not been a man given to prayer — prayer for all — giving utterance, on
one occasion, to an expression, into which he threw his whole soul,
" I will pray my knees red raio before any of my family shall perish."
A circumstance not less remarkable occurred at Pontefract, a place
where Samuel was highly respected, and where he deeply interested
himself in the erection of a new chapel. It was agreed, in order to
aid the collection at the opening, that each collector should deposit
a sovereign in his box, and that the collectors should be changed
each service. Samuel entered into the plan with his native ardour,
and promoted, in various instances, its accomplishment. On recol-
lecting the names of friends who were likely to afford aid, he
immediately proceeded to their residences, and accosted them —
"Why, the friends are houm to open a new chapel in Pontefract:

• IIow he Vwcanie possessed of this opinion, or whether he had entertained it any
Icn^h of time, is difficult to state ; hut it is not a little sin^olnr to find that it is ia
consonance with the notions and practice of some of our oucestoi-a, who, iu tounia-
inent« and ancient combats, frequently pomiittod the shaft of death, which hacl Wvu
propelled through the hody, to remain there for a short time, with a view to staunch
t)»e blood to a cfrtain extent — when the wound w.is deemed mortal— till the jierson
ahoujd be enabled to express bis Uiat will ip the settlement of his aSuira.

THE villaoe bt.vcksmith. 8^

yoa intend to be there, don't you, and to be a collectoi- ? '' To this
exordium he appended the plan, closing in with a personal applica-
tion: "You approve of it, don't you?" In cases of approval,
accompanied with a doubt, whether there would be an opportunity
to attend, he generally relieved them, by observing, " I will tell you
what you must do; you must give me a sovereign, and I will get
some one to collect for you." Such was his success, by this mode of
procedure, that on the day of the opening he handed over to the
treasurer nearly twenty pounds. On the morning he took his seat,
previously to the commencement of the sei'vice, in a pew near the
pulpit. He had promised himself much enjoyment, and was just
sipping of its streams, while glancing upon the collecting wor-
shippers, when he suddenly became unaccountably discomposed.
He vacated his seat, and, taking up his hat, directed his steps to
the gallery, where he placed himself by the side of a young lady in
one of the front pews. It was instantly suggested, "Thou hast
done it now, — perched in the front for everj'body to look at thee, —
they will think it is nothing but pride that has led thee hei-e."
The chapel was exceedingly crowded ; and no sooner was his soliloquy
ended than the congregation was thrown into a state of the utmost
confusion, by an unfounded alarm respecting the safety of the
building. The young lady who sat next him leaped on the top of
the pew, and was in the act of precipitating herself into the body
of the chapel, when Samuel with promptitude, equalled only by his
composure, prevented her, by taking her in his arms, exhorting her
at the same time to " be still," saying, " I would rather die in a
Methodist Chapel than any where else."* He now saw, as in the

* This and the preceding anecdote grace the review of this work in the U'eslei/an
Magazine for 1834, p. 526, and both are ushered in with the following remarks: —
" We are not sure whether Mr. Everett intends to represent the village blacksmith a."!
a merely ordinary, or as an extraordinary character. In either case he has said too
much. On the first supposition, some of the statements are unnecessary ; on the last,
injurious. For instance :" then follow the two statements in question, viz., Samuel's
visit to the coal pit, and his conduct in Pontefract chapel ; both of which are filed oflf
to the left as " injurious statements."

Two other cases are quoted by the same reviewer ; one referring to a false impressi(m,
and noticed as such by the biographer— (See note, p. 303, in the early editions)— an
impression entertained by Samuel respecting his call to the missionary work ; and
another to his having been " led by ijicliiiatiou to a public meeting of the Society of
Friends" (ibid. p. 166), in which he spoke, and for which he also stands rebuked liy
the biographer.

Aa it respects the last of these, and with a view to strip the second of its prouid«ntial
aspect, this Wesleyan Eeviewer, in the Wesleyan Magazine, flippantly remarks : " It
appears he [that is, Samuel Hick] exhibited symptoms of uneasiness in other places
besides the Pontefract chapel;" and then adds, in reference to each, "All this,
indeed, may ' amuse,' for it is likely to excite the wonder of the credulous and the
smiles of the sceptical ; but that it will either ' instruct ' or ' edify ' is more tlmu can
reasonably be expected." So, the saltation of a hiunan being — a poor collier, cannot
" edify " or " instruct ! " To save a female from a premature grave is calculated to
excite a " smile I " Woul J the reviewer have been eijually callous and indifferent if

90 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

case of the poor collier, a reason for the feeling which induced him
to leave his first seat, and occupy another of such prominence. An
immortal spirit was in all probability saved, in the first instance,
from perdition ; human life, in the second, from a premature
grave. The female is still living, and a member of the Wesleyan
Society.

In the course of a summer of excessive drought, a few years back,
when gi-ain suffered greatly, and many of the cattle, especially in
Lincolnshire, died, Samuel was much affected. He visited Knares-
borough, at which place he preached on the Lord's day. Eemaining in
the town and neighbourhood over the Sabbath, he appeared extremely
restless in the house in which he resided, daring the whole of
Monday. He spoke but little — was full of thought — now praying —
now walking about the room — next sitting in a crouching posture —
then suddenly starting up, and going to the door, turning his eyes

the one had been his hrotlier, and the other his sister? However ■unreasonable it may
be in his estimation to expect edification from such statements, not a few professing
Christians, both Wesleyans and others, will have sagacity sufficient to perceive the
finger of Dii'i'iie Providence in both instances — be instructed in a dispLay of Divine goodness
— and will have gratitude, piety, and humihty enough to acknowledge it ; and this —
whatever reason may look for — and look for with all the hopelessness of despair, tlii.-
Sacred Writings will expect. But is nothing to be penned that will " excite the nondtr
of the credulous ? " What, then, becomes of the apparition and u-ifch sfon'es of John
Wesley, in the early volumes of the iresleyan ifo;ja:uie — the work for which tlie
Reviewer is encouraged by its Editor to write, and the still more wonderful statements
in the Journals of Wesley ? Is nothing to be placed upon record calculated to
" excite the smiles of the sceptical!" What becomes, in such case, of the miraWe-s of
Christ and his Apostles ? They have been laughed at by Voltaire, Hume, Gibbon,
and others. Still, it is reiterated, that the facts stated are not calculated to " edify "
or "instruct." But the fault may be as much owing to the indisposition, the fenipcr,
the prejudice, or diilness of the critic, as to the character of the statements. A female,
noticed by one of the ancient philosophers, is represented as complaining of the dark-
ness of the room, when it was found, on inspection, that she herself was Hind. It
may be demanded of this Wesleyan sage, who has assumed the office of censor, and
the admission of whose article argues excessive dearth in tlie critical department,
whether the mariner is not insd-ucfed to avoid the rock on wliich others split ?
whether it is impossible for a person to reap iustntction from anything but what he is
called upon to imi(a/t' or reduce to practice? If so, what is to become of the miracles
of tlie Old and New Testament ? We are no more bound to imitate them than to
follow Samuel Hick in his various movements ; and yet we may be instructed by both,
tliough not to an equal extent.

Whatever the present Editor may have done, his predecessors, Messrs. T. Olivers,
O. Storey, and J. Benson, would have hesitated to give currency to such remarks ;
and the biographer is authori.sed to stato that John Wesley would not have given
tliem insertion, because such au act would have lieen to oppose what he himself, iu
scores of other caAcs, had been at the trouble to insert and at the expense to publish,
for the edification and ins(ri(c(ion of the public, iu his works— works, as stated iu a
previous note, edited by the Rev. Thomas Jackson himself, the Editor of the Maga-
r.ine. In those works there are various iustiiuccs of individual res(lcs.t7iess— frequent
thiftings, till the purposes of Proi-ideiire should be accomplished— and unaccoxintnble
impreiisioni, many of them eimi'Lir, and not a few, still more strange than thoM
»jhil)itfid by »h:> Village Hb ok smith •

• Ovc ApiHiiiU*.

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 91

towards heaven, as if looking for some celestial phenomenon, when
he would again return, groan in spirit, and resume his seat. The
family being impressed with his movements, asked him whether any-
thing was the matter with him, or whether he expected any person,
as the occasion of his going to the door so frequently. " Bless you,
hams," was his reply, " do you not recollect that I was praying for
rain last night in the pulpit ? and what will the infidels of Knares-
borough think, if it do not come ? if my Lord should fail me, and
not stand by me ? But it must have time ; it cannot be here yet ;
it has to come from the sea. Neither can it be seen at first ; the
prophet only saw a bit of a cloud, like a man's hand ; by-and-by it
spread along the sky. I am looking for an answer to my prayer — but
it must have time." He continued in the same unsettled state —
occasionally going out, and looking with intensity on the pure azure
over his head ; for a more unclouded heaven was rarely ever seen.
Contrary to all external signs of rain, and contrary to the expectations
of all, except himself, the sky became overcast towards evening, and
the clouds dropped the fatness of a shower upon the earth. His
very soul seemed to drink in the falling drops. The family gi-ouped
around him, like children round their father, while he gave out his
favourite hymn — "I'll praise my Maker while I've breath;" and
after singing it, with a countenance all a-glow through the sunshine
of Heaven upon his soul, he knelt down and prayed. All were over-
powered: it was a season of refreshing from the presence of the
Lord.

If this relation had concerned another man than the subject of the
memoir, the biographer would have been incredulous enough to have
suspended his judgment, — possibly to have doubted,^and would have
been led to inquire, whether, by some particular signs, the person
might not have prognosticated a change. But Samuel was too
artless to be suspected — too sincere to practise imposition, and his
knowledge was too circumscribed to subject him to the charge of
being " weatherwise." He was unable to see so far as Columbus,
who, in another ca3e, astonished and preserved a portion of the
inhabitants of the New World in awe, by being able to foretell,
through his astronomical knowledge, a meteorological appearance.
Samuel had no weather-glass upon which to look, except the Bible,
in which he was taught to beUeve and expect that for which he
prayed; nothing on which he could depend but God, vax^ his faith
was set in God for rain. This, like some other instances which
have been noticed, is a beautiful exemplification of the simplicity
of Christianity, as it exists in its effects in an uncultivated mind; the
person receiving every fact of Scripture history as an undoubted
truth of God, giveu for the encouragement, the conviction, and tha

P2 THE VIIXAG?, BLACKSMITH.

instrnction of all future ages, whether it refers to the improvement
of the mass of mankind, or to the individual.*

In perfect character with the preceding remarkable fact, connected
with the element of water, is another, respecting the element of air.
both of which may yet be attested by living witnesses ; and which
ought not to be beyond the reach of credibility, if we believe there is
ft God — that He has power over the work of his own hands — and that
He employs the elements, not only as general sources of felicity, but
on particular occasions, unbinds them in their operations, and lets
them loose upon man, either as a special blessing, or a special
scourge, in order to prevent common good from being looked upr^n
writh an eye of indifference. Samuel was at Knottingley, a populous
village in the neighbourhood of Ferrybridge, in 1817, where he took
occa.sion to inform his hearers, that there would be a love-feast at
Mickle field, on a certain day, when he should be glad to see all who
were entitled to that privilege. He further observed, with his usual
frankness and generosity, that he had two loads^ of corn, and that
they should be groimd for the occasion. These comprised the whole
of the corn lefl of the previous year's produce. When, therefore, he
returned home, and named his general invitation and intentions,
Martha, who had as deep an interest in it as himself, inquired very
expressively, " And didst thou tell them, when all the corn was done,
how we were to get through the remainder of the season, till another
crop should be reaped?" "To-morrow" alas! rarely entered into
Samuel's calculations, imless connected with the church. The day
fixed for the love-feast drew near — there was no flour in the house —
and the wind-mills, in consequence of a long calm, stretched out
their arms in vain to catch the rising breeze. In the midst of this
«leath-like quiet, Samuel carried his com to the mill nearest to his
own residence, and requested the miller to unfurl his sails. The
miller objected, stating that there was " no wind." Samuel, on the
other hand, continued to iirgo the request, saying, " I will go and
pray, while you spread the cloth." More with a view of gratifying
the applicant than from any faith he had in Him who holds the
natural winds in his fists, and who answers the petitions of his

• It must not bo omitted here either, that the relation of the fact respectinj?
Snmiiel's prayer for rain at Knaresborongh is also treated with some degree of levity
l-y the Reviewer just noticed (IKcxftii/aii JfcOiodi-st Maijnzine, 183-1,) and classeil
iiinong the more oljjectionablo parts of the vohinie in the review. But neither tlio
Ut^vifwcr nor the Kditor (on the supposition tliey do not constitute the same person)
ii|i|><'ars to have recollected that they were indirectly siiortinif with the venemble Wesley
ut tlu; time; for if the bottles of heaveu wore oju'iicci on the prayer of the blackMmllii,
tliey were a/nit on the prayer of the Founder of Methodism. J

t A lo.ad of com at Micklefleld signifies six nfrokf>, or thref bunliels

X See AppaudiK.

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 93

creatures, the man stretched his canvas. No sooner had he done
this, than, to his utter astonishment, a fine breeze sprung up — the
fans whirled round — the com was converted into meal — and Samuel
returned with his burthen rejoicing, and had everything in readiness
for the festival. A neighbour who had seen the fans in vigorous
motion, took also some corn to be ground; but the wind had
dropped, and the miller remarked, " You must send for Sammy Hick
to pray for the wind to blow again."*

Few circumstances, perhaps, can be adduced, more characteristic
of Samuel, than a remark which he made in reference to the man who
" Avent down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves."
After commenting on the situation of the poor sufferer — for all was
real history to Samuel — he glanced at the conduct of the Priest, the
Levite, and the Samaritan. Speaking particularly of the Priest, he
endeavoured to apologise for him as far as he conscientiously could,
by intimating that " he might have been poor," in consequence of
priests not having such "big livings" then, as in the present day
Turning at length, however, upon his piety, he quaintly and pointedly
remarked, "Bad as the Levite was, the Priest was the worst of the
two ; for, admitting him to have been without money, he might have
said to the wounded man, ' Come, we'll have a bit of prayer to-
gether ! ' " There is a volume contained in this single sentence,
on the habit of devotion which Samuel constantly carried about with
him; and had it been a scene of real life, and himself one of the
actors, he would have been seen sidling up to the sufferer, whether on
the highway or at the market cross — afterwards devoutly kneeling —
and with uplifted hands and heart, pleading with the Most High for
healing and strength.

His prayers were not restricted to man. He saw as great pro-
priety in praying for the restoration of cattle that might be afflicted
with any particular disease, as in soliciting the Divine blessing upon
the fruits of the field, and the seasons of the year. Thus it was, on a
particular occasion, that he associated his own horse with the cow of
a friend, in his devotions, both of which were unwell; — in everythinrj,
by supplication and prayer making his requests known unto the
Lord.

There were instances, howevei', of familiarity of expression, which,
though not criminal in him, ought to be avoided; and also something
in his manner which was calculated to disturb the solemnities of
domestic worship. He was in a friend's house, where he was intro-
duced to the company of a minister, the Rev. A. L., who, he had
heard, was paying his addresses to a young lady, and to Mr. U. a
sohcitor. On Mr. U.'s name and profession being announced, he

* See Appendix.

94 TRR VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

looked uskance at him, as upon an object for -which lie mirrbt be
charged for the bestowment of a passing glance, quickly turning
away his head, and muttering, " Hem, a twney ! " He was soon
absorbed in thought ; and when urged to help himself to a glass of
wine, he took it uj), and on applying it to his lip, as if the apparition
of Mr. U. had shot qu^ickly past him, he said, " From tornies and
lawyers, good Lord, deliver us ! " Mr. U. who knew to what reflec-
tions the profession was subject, avoided any observation. The case,
however, was not dismissed: Samuel was called upon to go to
prayer. After generalising his petitions, he took up each case sepa-
rately, praying that Mr. A. L. might be happy enough to obtain "a good
wife," as the marriage state was " the best." He next prayed for the
conversion of Mr. U., saying, " Lord save this torney. What he is
thou knowest, — I know not ; but when he is saved, he will not charge
folk so much money for their jobs. Thou hast saved a torney at
Longpreston, and he gets as good a living as any of them. Lord,
save this man." After this, he proceeded to pray for the family,
mingling, as is too often the case, rebuke, exhortation, &c., with prayer.
This is not the most " excellent way ; " besides, cowards very often
avail themselves, under the guise of devotion, of letting off their bad
feeling against their fellow-Christians in this " way," by praying at
1 hem, instead of supplicating mercy for them. Li Samuel, it was a
weakness inseparable from his nature. Ill-will had no place in him ;
and his native courage never failed him, as the following circum-
stance goes to prove.

A person of his own trade, who resided a few miles from Howden,
ent-ered the place where he was preaching, in a state of inebriation,
and made some disturbance. Samuel, and some of the people,
expostulated with him, but without effecting any good end. Finding
that gentler means failed, he went up to him, and by his o^vvn mascu-
line grasp, forced him to the door. But this, alas ! wa.s a greater
expenditure of peace, than a display of strength. He felt " something
wrong within," he observed, and could find no rest, on his return
from worship. He made his case kuowu to God, and wrestled — as
lliougli he had been the greater criminal of the two— till he recovered
his quiet of mind. This being obtained, lie retired to sleep. The
subject, liowever, still haunted liis spirit. When he rose in the
morning, he found that he could not be perfectly composed, till he
went to the man to ask pardon ; for though he had settled the
dispute between God and his conscience, ho knew there was some«
thing duo to the sinner, who might draw unfavourable inferences
from his example. The man was ashamed of his conduct, and could
not but admire the spirit of Samuel, who embraced the opportunity
of Hcrijusly conversing with, and praying for hira. Not only were

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 95

good impressions made ujion the mind of the aggressor, but his wife,
who was under deep conviction of sin, entered, during that prayer,
into the glorious liberty of the children of God.

When he only was concerned, and the interruption of others was out
of the question, Samuel could, on the other hand, sustain any hard-
ship, any insult, with exemplary meekness and forbearance ; and his
strongest graces were often put to the test. A young lady, who had
been known to him from her childhood, and whose palfrey had lost a
shoe, called at his shop to have it replaced. She appeared delicate.
He looked compassionately upon her, and asked, *' Do you know
barn, whether you have a soul ? " Startled with the question, she
looked in return; but before she was permitted to reply, he said,
" You have one, whether you know it or not, and will live in happi-
ness or misery for ever." These, and other remarks, produced
serious reflections. Her father perceived fi'om her manner, on her
return home — her residence being not far from Samuel's dwelling —
that something was preying upon her spirits. She told him the
cause : " What," he exclaimed, " has that old blacksmith been at thee,
to turn thy head ? but I will whach (beat) him." So saying, he took
up a large stick, similar to a hedge-stake — left the house — posted off
10 Samuel's residence — found him at the anvil — and without the
least intimation, fetched him a heavy blow on the side ; which, said
Samuel, when relating the circumstance, "nearly felled me to the
ground ; " adding, " and it was not a little that would have done it in
those days." On receiving the blow, he turned round, and said,
" What are you about man ? what is that for ? " Supposing it to be
out of revenge, and that religion was the cause of it, he made a
sudden wheel, and lifting up his arm, inclined the other side to his
enraged assailant, saying, " Here man, hit that too." But either his
courage failed him, or he was softened by the manner in which the
blow was received ; beholding in Samuel a real disciple of Him, who
said, "Whosoever shall smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him
the other also." He then left him ; and Samuel had the happiness
of witnessing the progress of religion in the daughter. Some time
after this, the person himself was taken ill, and Samuel was sent for.
He was shown into the chamber, and looking on the sick man. he
asked, " What is the matter with you ? are you bown to die ? " He
stretched out his arm to Samuel, and said, " Will you forgive me ? "
Not recollecting the circumstance for the moment, Samuel asked,
"What for? I have nothing against you, barn, nor any man living."
The case being noticed, the question was again asked, "Will you
forgive me?" " Forgive you, barn ? I tell you I have nothing against
you ! But if you are about to die, we will pray a bit, and see if the
Lord will forgive you." Samuel knelt by the side of the couch, and

96 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

tne dying inun united with him: and from the penitence, fervour, and
gratitude which he manifested, there was hope in his death. The
daughter continued an object of his solicitude : she grew up to
womanhood, — became a mother, and he afterwards exulted to see her
and two of her daughters members of the Wesleyan Society. Four
conversions are here to be traced, in reguhir succession, and attri-
butable apparently to a word fitly and seasonably spoken, by one of
the iveah things of this world, becoming mighty through God.

Samuel appeared, in many cases, to have the power of accommo'
dating his conduct to the characters and occasions which demanded his
attention, and that, too, in a way which his mental faculties would
scarcely warrant ; for while he would employ muscular force in a case
where the intellect was impaired by the abuse of intoxicating liquors,
and bear with meekness the arm of flesh upon himself for righteous-
ness' sake, he would at the same time defend himself against the
tongue of slander, and subdue, by Christian means, any improper
feeling he might perceive in the professors of Christianity themselves.
A singular instance of self-defence occurred, in the course of one of
his journeys. He was returning home by way of Aberford, in a stage
coach. A clergyman, and some ladies of fashion, were his companions.
They were on their way to the grand Musical Festival held in York
Minster. The clergyman expatiated on the delights of the occasion,
the innocence* of such enjoyments, and the benevolence of the object.

* An article in tlic C)iristian Observer of 1821, p. 250, of which the following is an
sxtract, demands attention ; and the more so, as, from the medium of publication, it
shows the view which the evangelical part of the clergy take of the subject : —

" It appears to me that it is not lawful for Christians to attend a Concert of Sacred
Music in a Church, for chai-i^able purposes, either as respects the performances, the
performers, or the place. Music is, stricthj speaking, 'sacred' only, when employed in
the worship of God, of which the song of praise and thahksg^iving forms one of the
most delightful parts. Its animating and elevating influences many Christians can
abundantly testify, who have sometimes, when joining a large congregation in one
united chorus, been almost ready to imagine that they caught a faint echo of those
immortal strains which cherubim and seraphim pour forth in honour of the celestial
King. But of the performers of the i)ublic oratorios, it seems almost impossible, even
for tliat charity which liopeth all things, not to fear, that, with them, the prayer of
penitence, or the glow of gratitude, — the rapture of hope, or the triumph of faith, — are
nothing more than idle words, — a solemn mockery of Him who demands the homage of
the heart, and who declares that He ' will not hold him guiltless that toketh His
name in vain.' Their object is gain, and that of their auditors amusement.

" The worship of God is not for a moment in the thoughts of the assembly; yet for
this express purpose, and for this alone, was the house of God prepared. It is written
in the Old Testament, and the obligation of the precept is confirmed by the authority
of our Saviour in the Ni^w, ' My house shall bo called of all nations a house of prayer; '
and did He who onco drove the buyers au<l sellers out of the Jewish temple, now
dwell among us in a human form, we can, I think, scarcely imagine that the votaries
of pleasure would bo regar<lod by him with a more lenient eye than the lovers of gain.
To buy and sell is lawful, aud so may music be ; but it is not lawful to desecrate the
Sanctuary of God by applying it to any secular purpose whatever.

" To the inquiry, Is it lawful for Christians to attend a perfonnanre of music of a
rsDnJ tendency, mixed with sncrod. or of Mored only, within (he walls of a theatre:

TTIK VILLAGE BLACKSAITTH. f*7

Tie observed, lliat lie knew of no class of persons wlio would Tentuie
to hazard an objection against such amusements, excepting a few
" canting Methodists." He then took occasion to launch out some
violent invectives against the bodj', insisting on their incapacity tc
form a judgment in such cases from the circumstance of the members
belonging to the lowest class of society ; finally denouncing them
as a set of hypocrites and vagabonds. Samuel, who had hitherto
avoided obtruding his remarks upon the party, could brook it no
longer. He considered himself implicated in the general charge, and
his spirit rose indignantly at it : " Sir," said he, " I am a Methodist ;
[ am going to the place where I was born, and where I am well
known ; and I will make you prove your words, Sir." The clergyman
was a little confounded by this sudden burst of expression, and had
no expectation of being so suddenly and unceremoniously subpoenaed
to appear as a witness in his own defence. It was in vain to attempt
the hackneyed method of parrying off the reflections by exempting
the present company. The character of the body was as dear lo
Samuel as his own ; and he continued to bore the reverend gentleman,
till the coach stopped at the inn at Aberford. The innkeeper was m

I again answer, No. If, in the former instance, the performance be a profanation of
the place, in this, the performance is polluted by the place. And the most strenuous
advocates for theatrical exliibitions cannot deny that they are inseparably attended by
a fearful train of incident evils, all of which remain in equally active and equally
destructive operation, whether the audience be attracted by the genius of Handel or
Shakespeare.

" The natural tendency of music is, to cheer the spirits when oppressed by study
or fatigue, and to soothe the temper irritated by the little vexatious of life. It sup-
plies a never-failing source of innocent recreation, and generally proves an additional
bond of family attachment. Every advantage, however, which music has to bestow
may be obtained in private. Should it therefore be conceded, that it is Imcful for
Christians to attend the concerts of miscellaneous music performed in the Hanover
Square Rooms, or elsewhere, I think it must be maintained that it is by no means
expedient to do so.

" If it be possible that these musical entertainments rank among those ' pomps
and vanities' which we pledged ourselves by our baptismal covenant to renounce — if
they have any tendency to make the every-day duties and occupntions of life compara-
tively insipid — if by this indulgence we tread upon the frontier Hue, which separates
the lawful enjoyment from the vmlawful compliance — if, by thus advancing to tlie foct
of a precipice, we become liable to fall headlong in some unguarded moment— or,
though we can tread the dizzy height in safety, should others, following our example,
stumble and fall — where is the Christian that can hesitate an instant between the
gratification of an hour and the risk of incurring any one of these awful possibilities ?
It is always dangerous to be conformed to this world— always safe to deny ourselves,
to take up our cross and follow our Eedeemer. It would be less inconsistent for the
philosopher to covet the toys of infancy, tlian it is for the member of Christ, the cliild
of God, and the inheritor of the kingdom of heaven, anxiously to desire even the most
elegant and refined of the pleasures of sense. He should ever remember that he is not
his own. His fortune, his time, his talents, his influence, his example must all b«
devoted to the glory of God. Remembering the exhortation of our liord, ' Wat< li
and pray, lest ye enter into temptation,' he desires not to widen the nan-ow p;i;h
which leadeth unto life eternal, but to obtain grace to pursue it with patient perse-
verance, knowing that so only 'shall an entrance be administered iiuto us abundni.ily
into the everlastiuj kingdom of his Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.' "

M THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

immediate attendance, when Samuel and the clergj-man aliglited, the
latter being little aware — as under a contrary impression he would
probably have retained his inside berth — that the subject would be
again agitated. Samuel accosted the master of the house with no
common earnestness and gesticulation, saying, " You know me, don't
you P " and before he had time to receive a distinct reply in the
affirmative, pressed nearly in the same breath the grand question, of
which the other was only the precursor, " Am I a hypocrite or a vaga-
bond ? " " No, Samuel," was the reply ; " you are known all around
here as an honest, hard-working man." To this Samuel responded, —
" I work for all I have, pay evei-ybody their own, and get nothing for
preaching." He then pointed to the clergyman and recapitulated
what he had said. The innkeeper, not knowing the cause of Sarauel'ti
interrogatories before, and seeing a probable customer in the clergy-
man, was not very anxious to proceed with his answers ; and the
clergyman, unwilhng to confirm his delinquency by retiring, stood a
short time. Samuel's earnest appeals in the meantime attracted
attention ; the people thickened around them, in front of the inn ; he
proceeded to dwell on the charges, and to point to the clergyman, as
going to spend his time and his money at the concert. The clergy-
man found himself so much annoyed by the looks, the jokes, and
remarks of the crowd, who encouraged Samuel in his zeal for cha-
racter, that he was glad when the horses were changed, and found
himself safely seated by the side of the ladies, reaping instruction, no
doubt, from the event, though not much enamoured with the un-
courteous maimer in which his fellow-traveller had defended himself.
Though the clergyman's opinion of the low-bred character of the
Methodists was not likely to be much improved by the specimen with
which he had just been favoured, yet it was only tlie rougher side of
Samuel's integrity of which he had a view, and which his own rasping
had raised. Samuel was much better qualified to repress and correct
improper feelinrj, than to combat erroneous vulions. He attended a
love-feast in the Wakefield Circuit, when Mr. Biadburn was stationed
there. Several of the good people were in the habit of giving out a
verse of a hymn befoi-e they narrated their Christian experience, by
way of tuning their spirits for the work. This was prohibited by Mr.
Bradburn, not only as a rcilection upon himself, being both authorised
and competent to conduct the service, but as an imjiroper appropria-
tion of the time wliich was set apart for epcalcing. Samuel, either for-
getting the prohibitir^n, or being too warm to be restrained within its
fimits, gave out a verse. Mr. Bradburn was instantly in his majesty,
iind with one of his severest and worst faces, looked at Samuel, who
stood up in the congregation, and sung alone, no one daring to join
him, prefacing his rebuke with one of his singidarly extravogaui

TVnt VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 99

remarks — " Wlicre is the person that would not come out of a red-hot
oven to hear such a man as you sing ? " then proceeding to make
such observations as he thought proper. Samuel supposing the
rebuke to have been given in an improper spirit, went into the vestry
after service to settle matters. Offering to shake hands with Mr.
B., who was not in one of his most complacent moods, he was
saluted with — " What, are you the man that persisted in singing after
I peremptorily forbid it ? " " Ye — ye — yes. Sir," said Samuel, " but
I hope you will forgive me, Mr. Bradbui'n ; " and without waiting to
see how the request was taken, he was in an instant upon his knees
among the people. Those around followed his example, and last of
all, Mr. B. knelt by his side, who found that it would scarcely look
decorous to stand alone. Every heart was touched with Samuel's
simplicity and fervour; and when he concluded prayer, Mr. B.,
with a full heart, and with all the magnanimity and generous flow
of spirit he possessed, stretched out his hand, familiarly saying,
" There, my brother ; this is the way — to keep paying off as we
go on."

Though he often overcame opposing feelings by prayer, for which
he was better qualified than for holding a long parley on opinion;
yet on subjects proposed by a querist, he would change two or three
sharp rounds on a controverted point. "I have often been struck,"
says Mr, Dawson, " at the promptness and propriety of his replies, to
persons who have proposed objections and questions to him upon
particular subjects, and in peculiar cases. He manifested some
ftstonishing gleams of sanctified satire, when directed to a person or
a subject, which penetrated deep into the heart; while sparkles of
holy wit would touch the risible faculties, and thrill a delight thi-ough
the soul of the heai-er, which would instantly scatter the shades and
remove the scruples from an inquiring mind. Of this peculiarity of
talent he himself was insensible ; all was spontaneous and natural."
While the citation comes in as evidence of what has been stated, it
may be further illustrated by other striking instances of quickness
of perception, discrimination, and point.

Having business to transact which bore hard upon his patience,
and seeing the person who was agent for him in the transaction
going about with the utmost deliberation, with countenance and
temper as serene as the unruffled lake, he seemed uncomfortable in
tlie presence of such superiority; and yet, unwilling to unchristianise
himself, as well as sensible of the kindly feeling he possessed towards
the person who was the occasion of hia exercises, he said, " We are
both perfect : you are perfect in patience, and I am per/ict in love."
Though the theology of this is questionable, as a general position,
yet in its particular application to Samuel, there is more truth in it

II 2

100 TTTR VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

than at first might appear ; for if he excelled in any one branch of
" the fruit of the Spirit," it was in love.

To a gentleman labouring under great nervous depression, whom
he had visited, and who was moving along the streets as though he
was apprehensive that every step would shake his system in pieces,
he was rendered singularly useful. They met, and Samuel having a
deeper interest in the soul than the body, asked, " Well, how are you
getting on in your way to heaven ?" The poor invalid, in a dejected,
half-desponding tone, replied, " But slowly, I fear; " intimating that
he was creeping on at only a snail's pace. " Why bless you, ham"
returned Samuel, " there were snails in the ark." The reply was so
earnest, so unexpected, and met the dispirited man so immediately
on his own ground, that the temptation broke away, and he rose out
of his depression. It was a resurrection to his feelings ; inferring,
that if the snail reached the ark, he too, " faint, yet pursuing," might
gain admission into heaven.

Perhaps one of his happiest conquests in oral controversy was

•obtained over the Rev. K., of Leeds, a gentleman of great

shrcAvdness and learning. They were both on board the Selh]i steam-
packet, going down the river towards Hull. Samuel was walking
along the deck, and humming over a hymn tune, which appeared to
attract the attention of Mr. K., who abruptly opened out upon him
on the evils of Methodism, suspecting him to belong to that body,
from the character of the music. He insisted on the mischief it had
done by the tenets it propagated, particularly instancing the doctrine
of sandification, for which, he contended, there was no foundation.
Though Samiiel did not appear to be personally known to Mr. K.,
yet Mr. K. was not unknown to him ; to whom he instantly returned,
" See that you never read the Church Prayers again, for I am sure
there is full sandification in them." " No such thing," was the reply.
" )Vliat," said Samuel, do you not pray that the Lord would dranse
the thour/hts of the heart by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit ? See
that you do not read that, Sir, next Sunday." !Mr. K., finding him-
self pressed from this higli quarter, and partly conceding the principle,
by flying to what he deemed its effects, asked, " What good has the
doctrine done?" gliding, as a diversion of the subject, into the
general topic of Methodism again ; demanding, " "Wliat have the
Methodists effected? Bad women are on the increase; Leeds is
swarming with them." " IIow is that?" inquired Samuel: "I was
in Leeds the other week, and never met with one." "I know," rejoined
Mr. K., " that tliere never were so many as there are at present."
'* Happen so," replied Samuel, as though he had reached the end of
both his patience and his thoiiglits : " It may be that you arc better
acquainted with them than ine, Sir." Tliis v/as quantum suj/icit, aud

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 101

^Ir. K. left him to hum over his tune to the remainder of the hymn.
Pan.gent, however, as the last remark may have seemed, it would
have been found, if Samuel had been interrogated upon it, that there
was as much of concession intended for superior knowledge, as there
was of any indirect reflection upon moral character ; and ten minutes
would scarcely have elapsed, till — from other subjects occupying his
thoughts — he would have been as insensible to what had passed, as
though he had never exchanged a syllable with the gentleman that
spoke to him.

Singing was one of his favourite employments, both in company
and alone. Engaged thus, as he was riding along the road once, in
company with Mr. Dawson, and another friend or two, he seemed
lost occasionally to the society of his fellow-travellers. He had got
hold of a tune which was in use among the Banters, so called. This
he continued to hum over, in the same way as when he walked the
deck, exclaiming at short intervals, " Bless the Lord for a fine
shower ! " The rain continued more copious in its descent ; his
companions buttoned up, and turned their sides to the weather,
sinking the lower part of the face into the collars of their coats : — •
Samuel sung on, sensible only of his mercies, again exclaiming, " Bless
the Lord for a fine shower ! " One of his companions, as much
annoyed with the tune as by the rain, objected to it as an indifferent
one. " Sing a better, then," said Samuel. " I have no voice for the
work," was the reply. "Don't complain," rejoined Samuel, "of
what you cannot mend," again directing his face to the shower, and
his mind to the Giver of it, absent every now and then to all com
panionship, and as happy, though saturated with the teemmg contents
of the clouds, as if he had been sheltered under his own roof.

Though he possessed the power of occasionally accommodating
himself to existing circumstances and particular companies, isolated
instances occurred, when he was perfectly lost to the respect due to
the habits and feelings of others. He was led by inclination to a
public meeting of the Society of Friends, which was held at Sturton
Grange — Mr. Wade having granted permission to the Speakers to
"hold forth" in the place usually occupied by the Vresleyans, which
was the place Samuel was in the habit of attending, and who took
!iis seat in the midst of them. This was an ordinance and an assembly
for which he was the least fitted, either by nature or by habit; and
although he had often sung,

" A solemn reverence checks our songs,
And jiraise sits silent on our tongues,"

he never till now knew what it was to live under the restraint of
praise. " The songs of Zion " wei'e in his heart, in which he was
singing, and making melody to the Lord, as many of the worshippers

102 TUB \1LLA6E BLACKSMITH.

around him might have been employed ; but having read of Paul and
Silas, under less agreeable circumstances, adding to the music of the
heart, the variations of the voice, and the motion of the lips — rising in
their strains till " the prisoners heard them," and embracing the notion
that praise only receives its perfection in utterance, he either so far
forgot himself, or was otherwise glowing with an intensity of feeling
while musing, that the long silence observed in the commencement
became insupportable. He took his h^Tnn-book from his pocket, and
starting on his feet — his huge figure receiving elevation from the
seated and lowering position of those around him — said, " Come, let us
sing a verse or two." Neither the voice nor the language belonged
to the Friends ; a number of eyes were instantly fixed upon him ; and
strange feelings were stirring, till a venerable man arose, who knew
him, and accosted him, saying, "Samuel, sit thee down and wait**
The mandate was obeyed, without reply or murmur ; and all was
suddenly as still as before. After waiting some time in silence, during
almost every minute of which Samuel expected some one to rise and
address the assembly, but no attempt being made, he again bounded
, from his seat, under an impression that prayer might be more accept-
able than praise, and said, " Let us kneel down, friends, and pray a
bit." Just as he was in the attitude of kneeUng, the same venerable
man stood up, and with great solemnity again addressed him —
" Samuel, sit thee down — and wait till the Spirit moves thee." Less
docile than before, Samuel returned, " We Methodists think it very
well, if we can have the Spirit for asliiyig ; " referring with great
readiness to that passage of Scripture, " If ye then being evil, know
how to give good gifts unto your children ; how much more shall
your Heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him ? "
Tliough Samuel was correct in doctrine, he was /lere erroneous in
conduct, and had forgotten his own dislike of interruption in divine
service, when worshipping God agreeably to the dictates of his own
conscience, in his own ordinances, and under his own " vine, a: d
under his own fipj-trce."

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 103

CHAPTER IX.

His self-denial— sympathy for the poor — gratitude fur mcrdes — early rising — singular
band-meeting — the best way of beginning the day — his conduct in the families he
visited — Bolton — Raineliffe Close— ofttn abrupt in his manner&^his views of
proprietorship — a genuine 'Wesleyan — an attempt to purchase him — his character
as the head of a family — gives up business — preaching excursions — visits Rigton
— providential supply — bis public address — delight in his work — E Brooks, Esq.
Denby Dale — prosperity of the work of God- -a new chapel— Samuel visits Roch-
dale— rises superior to his exercises — takes a tour into different parts of Lanc^-
sliirc — great commercial distress — liberality of P. E. Towneley, Esq. — Tneeting fur
the relief of the poor — Samuel's return home — visits different parts of the Yo.k
Circuit — revival of religion — persecution.

As Samuel had obtained the grace which enabled him to " rejoice
evermore," he seemed to create a paradise in every circle in which he
moved. Whenever he was oppressed — which wa3 rarely the case — it
was either on account of the wants and miseries of others, or occa-
sioned by an overwhelming sense of his own mercies. Thus, on
being urged to take more food at table, he has been heard to say, in
seasons of commercial and agricultural distress, " Oh, no, I cannot
take more, whilst I think of so many around me nearly starving foi*
want of bread."

So, also, on being entertained out of the ordinary line, in the house
of a friend, his gratitude, like the thermometer, rose to the highest
point. He was at Pontefract during the bustle of an election, aurl
was lodging in the house of Mr. M., a member of the Society of
Friends, whose family was strongly attached to Samuel. He was
honoured with the best fare, the best room, and the best bed, the last
of which was unusually high. On being asked the next day how he
liked his lodgings, he said, " \N hy, barn, I have been crying half the
night ; I never was in such a bed before ; I had to take a chair to get
into it. Oh, how I wept ; for I thought my Lord never had such a
bed as that.^' Th s was properly the ''joy of grief." Samuel dwelt
much upon his Saviour: the ^' servimt" and the ''/.or</" afforded
him some amaz ug contrasts and drew forth the finest feelings of
his soul.

But he had his " songs in the night," and his n^.orning cands, as
well as his tears. "He was in the habit," Mr. I)a«son oh.^ervcs.
*' of rising very early in the morning (about four o'clock), and of

XOA THE VILLAGE BLACKSMfta.

partially dressing himself, when he bowed his knees before his Divine
Father, praying first for the church in general, next for particular
characters, and lastly for special cases. He then sung a verse of a
hymn — retired to bed again — and after a short time arose, and begun
the day with praise and prayer." The occasion of this systematic
proceeding is known to few. Samuel had a hard-mate, with whom
he met for some time, and to whom he was much endeared. Four
o'clock in the morning was the hour of meeting; and this was
selected, not only because of its tranquillity, but because it prevented
self-indulgence. His companion died, and he mourned his loss like
the stock-dove, whose mate had just sat by his side on the same
bough, and had droi)j)cd off through the hand of the fowler. The
hour and the ordinance were held sacred by the survivor. He rose
at the appointed time — sung — prayed — unfolded the secrets of his
heart to God, as he was wont to do with his Chi-istian friend — thus
going regularly through the service, as though the dead were still
alive by his side, holding converse with him. This is one of those
mementos of Christian friendship which rarely occurs in the same
form ; but while its singularity excites the surprise of some, its piety
will secure the admiration of others, and amjily atone for any pecu-
liarity in its manner. Those only, perhaps, will indulge the laugh,
who, nevertheless, have their anniversaries, &c., but support them in
another way, by toasting each other over the maddening bowl, and,
cheering each other Avith the s])eecli and the song, till they become
objects of pity, rather than subjects for imitation.

The summary account of his matins, as given by Mr. Dawson, is
exemplified by a ])articularcasc, as recorded by the family of P. Roth-
well, Esq., of Sunning Hill, Bolton, in whose house, Samuel, at one
time, resided, for the space of six weeks. " He frequently rose," it is
remarked, " in the; night to pray. On cue of these occasions he was
heard singing a hymn, after which he pleaded with God, that he might
enjoy a closer Avalk with Jesus, and his prayer was soon turned into
praise. He repeated several times, ' O that I could praise thee! O
that I could praise thee as I would ! — but I shall praise thee again,
when I pass over Jordan ! Glory ! glory ! glory ! glory ! ' Ho then
prayed for his family, the family he was visiting, the church of God,
and for the world at large. He appeared to feel much while pleading
for sinners, and then was borne away in transport for redeeming
mercy. Some time after ho rose from his knees, his language was
' Glory ! glory ! '" He has been known on some of these occasions to
indulge a sublimity of thought of which at other times he was in-
capable, and which — taken in connection with the whole man — would
have fixed upon him, by some gifted beings, liad they oveiheard him,
much more appropiiately than ever was appliid to Goldsmith, the

THE VILLAGE BLACILSMITH. 105

epithet of " an inspired idiot," and he would have stood a fair chance
of being deified among the Mahomedans.

Such a beginning was an excellent preparation for the duties, the
exercises, and the mercies of the day ; and it will be generally found,
that its close will correspond with its commencement. The man who
permits God to hear his voice in the morning, will not himself be
silent, nor yet mourn an absent God in the evening. These " mominor
communions " secured attention to " stated times " for retirement
through the day, when he entered into his closet before his Father
who sees in secret, and rewards openly ; and this is the secret of that
charm which was thrown round his spirit and demeanour in social
life. He came forth in the morning, like the sun from his chambers
in the east, refreshed and refreshing. Happy in himself, he chased
away melancholy from his soul, and lit up a sunshine in the counte-
nance of those with whom he conversed. " No family" — said a friend,
in whose house he had been resident a few weeks — " No family could
be miserable with whom he Uved, because he laboured to make every
person around him happy." Mrs. Bealey, of Ratcliflfe Close, near
Bury, in Lancashire, a lady well qualified to appreciate real worth,
whether religious, moral, or intellectual, and under whose hospitable
roof Samuel was entertained nearly two months, observed to Mr.
Dawson, "That he interested himself in the welfare of the whole
family, as though he had been united to them by the tender ties of
nature. He participated in all their pleasures, as well as increased
them, and was rendered truly useful to the men and children em-
ployed in the works." It was the love and joy within, which, as is
remarked elsewhere by Mr. Dawson, " Gave a beam to his eye, a
smile to his countenance, a tone to his voice, and an energy to his
language, which melted and attracted every heart that came within
the sphere of his inlluence."

This attractive iiiflueuce was not always sudden, but it was rarely
otherwise than certain. On his first visit to the residence of a
gentleman in Lancashire, to whom till then he was personally
unknown, he was directed to the house accidentally. He rode up to
the door of that gentleman, and after having seen his horse put under
the care of his servant, he entered the house, where he was intro-
duced into the parlour. "Without either letter or person to announce
him, and with no other passport than the connection of the family
with the Wesleyan body, he took his seat in the domestic circle,
where he sat, unconscious as innocence or infancy, of any other pro-
requisite for social enjoyment, than the religion of his Saviour. The
liabits of the gentleman, and the society in which he moved, rendered
liim at first uncomfortable ; and he was equally at a loss to know
what to do with, and what to make of, his new and unexpected guest.

106 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

A short interlude assisted in relieving the first feeling. The sitting-
room door was opened, and a person stepped in, with whom the
master of the house had to transact a little busmess. Samuel's
presence added to the poignancy of his more delicate feelings. How-
ever, he was there, and the person was at liberty to suppose, if he
judged proper, that Samuel was on business, as well as himself. He
sat in silence, and appeared to take no notice of either party. When
the transaction was closed, and the person rose to retire, Saniuol
started on his feet, as though he had been awakened from a trance.
" Stop, Sir ; let us pray a bit before you go : you seem full of the
world, and we'll try to get it out of your heart." This rendered the
occasion of his visit desperate ; and nothing but violence could be
done to the feelings of his host, to render such conduct supportable ;
Samiicl's voice was the warning clock — no sooner heard, than on his
knees. The effect of this may be as readily conceived as expressed.
Yet, notwithstanding the coy beginning on the part of the gentleman,
he was soon led to place the highest value on Samuel's piety and
presence, and continued to entertain both man and horse for some
time ; and so much regard did his homely visitor gain from himself
and his family, that they parted with sincere regret.

Even in families where religion was not professed, his simplicity of
manner, and general good character, gained him unhesitating access.
Wlien the Rev. A. Learoyd was on the Knaresborough Circuit, he
went to preach at a neighbouring village, and on entering the house
of a friend, he found Samuel seated, who had just arrived. " "Where
have you put your horse, Samuel ? " inquired ^Ir. L. " I ha\ c left it
at the other end of the village," was the reply; adding, " will you go
with me to the house? " Mr. L. being aware tliat the family had no
connection with the Wesleyan body, asked, " Why did you go there ? "
" I saw plenty of hay and good stables," returned Samuel, " and I
though it would be a good home for Jackey." The singularity of the
visit led Mr. L. to accede to his wishes ; and on being seated in the
family circle, Samuel proceeded to interrogate his host on the state ol
his soul. Considerable fluency characterised the replies ; but Samuel,
being suspicious that very little religion was enjoyed, proceeded to
speak n)oro plainly, exliorting hira to apply to Chiist for converting
grace. The word of exhortation was well received, and he acted the
part of a priesl in the fiimily. " Let me," said he to the servant-maid,
"have a dry bed ; " and to the servant-man, " You must give Jackoy
plenty to eat : — take good care of him, for he is the Lord's horse ; —
the hay and cora are the Lord's also." Abrupt as was hia introduc-
tion hero, and little as such freedoms arc to bo recommended, cither
in Samuel liiinsclf. or as examples to others, yet the family were nuuli
plea.scd with the viait. Such Ieudiii4j8 and juoveuicnts, in irrational

TflE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 107

creatures, would be attributed to inslind ; but Samuel was girded
and carried often, like Peter when lie was old, by " another " than
himself; and he was more indebted to the Spirit and providence of
God for his introduction, than to either the sagacity or the formalities'
of modern manners.

His representation of " the hay and the corn," as belonging to
the Supreme Being, arose from a settled principle in his creed, and
included a certain exclusiveness not generally recognised by the pro-
fessors of Christianity. His own crops were viewed in the same
light ; and his mind was so imbued with this notion, that all delegated
or personal right, in reference to man, seemed frequently annihilated.
He was going to preaching one Sabbath morning, when he was met
by a person who knew his regard for the sanctity of that day. There
had been a great deal of rain, which proved fatal to the " line," or
flax crops. The following is the purport of what passed between
them on the road : —

Neighbour. " Where are you going, Sammy ? "

Samuel. " To preaching."

Neighh. " More need you got your line in, now that God is giving
you fine weather."

Sam. " He does not give fine weather for us to break the Sab-
bath."

Nrighb. " Why, you see others making hay while the sun shines ;
they will get their line in to-day, and yours, if you let it he till
to-morrow, and it should be wet, will be spoiled."

Sam. " I have none to spoil, ham."

Neighh. " Is not yon, lying down, (pointing to it,) yours P "

Sam. "No."

Neighh. " What, is not you your close ? "

Sam. " No, it is the Lord's : he has a right to do with it what He
likes ; and if he have a mind to spoil it he may ; it is His own, and no
one has any business to quarrel with Him for it. It is the Lord's
day, too, and I will give it to Him."

A brief dialogue, also involving the same principle, took place in
the neighbourhood of Ferrybridge, when Samuel was journeying
from thence homeward. A gentleman was passing with a little boy,
and having his attention drawn to some sheep that were grazing in a
field adjoining the road, he accosted Samuel : —

Gentleman. " Do you know, my good man, to whom those sheep
belong ? "

Sam. " My Lord, Sir."

Gent. " They are very fine ones ; I do not recollect ever having
seen theu" equal."

Sam. " They are a tine breed. Sir."

108 TH£ VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

Ge7it. " I thought they might probably belong to Mr. Alderson,
of Ferrybridge."

Sam. " No, Sir ; they belong to my Lord : don't you know, that
the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof; and that the cattle
upon a thousand hills are His ? "

Gent. " You are right — you are right, old man."

Samuel's reply would have been a mere play upon words in the
mouth of many other persons ; but he was sincere ; and the gentle-
man's attention was suddenly and unexpectedly elevated from earth
to heaven, without his being offended by the manner in which it was
done.

With regard to " Jackey," who occupied such a prominent place
in Samuel's esteem, and who is only noticed as bearing upon his
master's history, it may be remarked that, on one occasion, Samuel
displayed a feeling respecting the treatment of the animal which was
not at all common to him. One of the young men belonging to a
family at whose house he stopped, withheld the meat from " Jackey,"
and otherwise failed in his attention as groom. It came to Samuel's
knowledge, and for a considerable length of time he utterly refused to
go near the place again. In process of time he went back, but he
would never take his favourite with him; thus showing, that, while
he entertained no resentment, by his own return, the only feeling
remaining was that of distrust in reference to his horse.

Wherever Wesleyan Methodism was respected, Samuel was sure
to be loved. He was a genuine believer in its doctrines, a hving
witness of its experimental truths, an example of its purest morals, a
firm supporter of its discipline, and a warm friend of its ministers.
Of the latter, he ever spoke with respect and affection ; and if his holy
indignation was at any time kindled, it was when persons endeavoured
to lower their character, in the eyes of the world, by cold oblique
hints, and when an apparent delight was taken in sowing discord
among brethren. Satisfied with his privileges, he avoided such as
were given to change. He was accustomed to say, " I am dcterminrd
to remain in the uld ship. She has carried thousands across llie
ocean, and landed them safe in glory ; and if I stay in her she will
carry me there too." Speaking once of a person who had acted in
the capacity of a local preacher, but had afterwards united himself to
another society, he struck in with his old figure of " the old ship"
and inquired why he had left Iter, after she had borne him so long in
safety? The simile was taken up by the other, who intimated that
shs was in danger of foundering. Samuel returned, " You should
not have been such a coward as to leave her, but should have
lemained on board, either to help to mend her, or prevent her from
going to the bultoiu. But you have forsaken an old friend ; I know

TITE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 109

she is sound at heart, and as safe as ever." " My wife and I," said
he to another person, " are sailing together in her. Some of our
children are with us ; we are getting stronger ; " and then, with a
fine glow of feeling, he would exclaim, " We shall all sail to heaven
together, — I know we shall."* This figurative mode of expression
was rendered very popular in a sermon preached by the late Eev.
Joseph Benson, on Schism, about the time of Mr. Kilham's defection
from the body ; and it was one of those figures which Samuel could
work without much danger of being wrecked in its management.

The religion which he carried into the families of others, and
recommended in his public walks, was not without its influence at
home. Though Martha and he could not always see eye to eye in
money affairs — and it was fortunate for him that they could not — yet
he was an affectionate husband, as well as a tender father. He moved
befoi^e his family more, perhaps, in the character of a priest, to pray
for them, than a prophet and a king, to instruct and govern. He was
fitted for the one rather than the other ; and such was his attention
to the FAMILY ALTAH — such his prevalent intercession before it — that
his incapacity for the two latter appeared to be greatly counter-
balanced by the hallowed character of the former. He bore his
partner and his children constantly before God, in the arms of faith
and prayer, and lived in full confidence that the whole would be
saved. If any of his opinions, more than others, bordered upon
extravagance, it was upon the certain salvation of the children of
praying parents. The possibility of perdition, in the case of any of
them, was beyond endurance.

Though he took excursions to different places, from the period of
his becoming a local preacher, yet it was nc*^i till the latter part of
18'25, or the beginning of 1826, when he gave up business, that he
took a more extensive range, and considered himself as doing the
work, and therefore entitled to the name and honours, of a Home
Missionary. He was then possessed of what he deemed sufficient

* S.amuel was not ^vilhout liis iuilupemouts to leave the borly. Mr. Sicrston, who
took such a promiuent part in the divi.siou at Leeds — which resulted iu the fcirniation
of the " Protestant Methodists," who aftenvards united with the Wesleyan Associa-
tion, now incori^orated with the United Methodist Free Churches — iu 1803, formed a
Bmall society, whose members received the appellation of Sigstouitcs. They held theii
meetings iu a room which was taken for the purpose, in Kirkgate. The head of this
email party was known by a few of the friends belonginij to the Poutefract Circuit,
among whom two exhorters, and two accredited local preachers, espoused his cause.
These took with them about thirty members of the society, and occupied a school-
room in Knottiugley, erected near the Methodist Chapel, by a person who, though
not in society, took pleasure in promoting tlie division. Samuel was earnestly
importuned to unite himself to the Knottiugley dissentients; and was told, as au
inducement, that he should have a certain sum presented to him as a compeusatioD
for his labours, whenever he preached. It argued an ignorance of Samuel's character
to think that he was to be bought by golii.

110 TTTE VFLLAGE BLACKSMITH.

for the support of himself and his aged partner, during the evening
of life. Being now at liberty from the trammels of business, he was
invited into several circuits in Yorkshire and Lancashire, all of which
he visited, preaching in the different towns and villages, and in many
of which he was not only useful in the conversion of sinners, but in
raising pecuniary supplies for the support of foreign missions, the
erection and relief of places of worship.

In the summer of 1826, as stated by Mrs. Whitworth, daughter of
the Rev. Jonathan Parkin, Samuel paid a visit to Barnsley, and was
the guest of Mrs. Stocks. While at dinner one day — some friends

being seated at the table with him — the Rev. Fletcher, vicar of

Royston, and dist.ant relative of Mr. Stocks, was unexpectedly ushered
into the room. Mrs. Stocks, introducing her guest to the vicar, said,
" Mr. Hick — Mr. Fletcher ; " adding, " the Vicar of Royston — Mr.
Hick." The latter extending his hand to the former, said, " My name
is Sammy Hick, and yours is the Rev. Mr. Fletcher, vicar of Royston.
"Well, bless you, I hope you know your sins forgiven." !Mr. Fletclier,
with some slight knowledge of the man, probably from report,
returned, "Not in the manner, perhaps, in which you understand the
subject." " Nay," replied Sammy, " it is not as I understand it, but
I take you to your own Homilies and Articles. Don't you say every
Sunday, ' I believe in the forgiveness of sins,' and ' he pardoneth and
absolveth all them that do truly repent.' Bless you. you must get to
know your sins forgiven ; and then you will say, ' I believe in the for-
giveness of sins,' as you never did in all your life before." The worthy
Vicar, whatever might be his views, was not disposed to " do battle "
with Sammy on the subject of personal experience at such a time, in
such a place, and before such company, and dinner being announced,
the subject dropped. Sammy having partaken of some of the more
substantial provision placed before him, was importuned to take a
tart, a custard, or other lighter article that graced the board, which
he more than once refused, with — " Nay, thank you ; I have had no
desire for such things since the Lord sanctified my soul." Mr.
Flot(;her concluding this to be a favourable opportunity for the pur-
pose of making reprisals for what he seemed to lose on the doctrine
of forgiveness, struck in with — " Do you think, Mr. Hick, that your
refusal of such things is a necessary consequence of sanctification ? "
" Yes, I do," said Samuel ; " and I think St. Paul thought so too,
when he said, ' I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection ; '
and after such a dinner as I have had, I should call it pampering the
body, or such like, to take such things," Wliatever might bo the
influence which the remark had on the tastes of the guests, and the
appearance of the lighter delicacies at the close of the feast, the worthy
Vicar ajifx^ared to be again put to the route. After taking a glass oi

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. Ill

wine, he put out his hand in pleasant mood, and said, " Good after-
noon, Mr. Hick." " Nay," said Sammy, " bless you, we must have a
bit of prayer before you go." Mr. Fletcher acceded to the proposal,
B.nd requested Sammy to engage ; when he instantly knelt down,
and prayed that the Lord would send the Spirit into the Vicar's
heart, and enable him to cry " Abba Father ; " and that he would
make him liks a flame of fire, never stopping in its progress till it had
reached every house in Koyston. The Vicar added his " Amen " to
it — rose with the tear in his eye — shook hands -with him — and took
his departure. Sammy knew nothing of the fear of man, and Mr.
Fletcher was too well taught to be offended ; and might possibly be
pleasantly disposed to test Sammy on the points in question.

Though Samuel had a good deal of plain sailing, while gi-atifying
the benevolent feelings of his heart, in obeying the calls of the
people, he not unfrequently suffered various inconveniences, notwith-
standing the kindness of friends. An instance which occurred a
short time prior to this part of his history, but which it would not be
well to omit, betokening great absence of mind on the part of the
persons on the spot, presents him under very unpleasant circum-
stances. He attended a missionaiy meeting at Rigton in the Forest,
a place belonging to the Otley Circuit, about three or four miles from
Harrogate. " We had a blessed meeting," said Samuel : " I was very
happy, and gave all the money I had in my pocket." After the
meeting was concluded, he mounted his horse to return home. And
in what aspect is he to be viewed ? Without any one offering to pay
his expenses, — not the value of a farthing in his pocket, — advanced
in life, — a slow rider, and not a vei'y sprightly horse, — near the end
of October, when the season was breaking up, — in the night, — and
about twenty miles from his own house. He became the subject of
temptation. It was suggested — " No money to procure a feed of
corn for thy horse, or refreshment for thyself, and friends who miglit
receive thee are gone to bed ! " The struggle was short ; and the;
victory was obtained in his own way. Satan found no place in him,
for either repining or mistrust. " I shaped him his answer," observed
Samuel, " and said — ' Devil, I never stack fast yet.' " With his con-
fidence invigorated by a recollection of past mercy, his happiness
returned, and he remained the only nightingale of Christianity on
the road, till he reached the village of Harewood, when a gentleman
who knew him, took his horse by the bridle, and asked him where he
had been. He gave him, in reply, an account of the meeting, from
which the gentleman glided into the subject of his temporal concerns,
in order to ascertain apparently how fixr a report was correct, which
he had heard respecting some property out of which Samuel had been
wronged. Samuel told him that he had " had two thousand pounds

112 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

left" to him, biit had "been deprived of it."* "I am very sorry for
you," was the rejoinder. Samuel replied, "Though I have been de-
prived of this, it has never deprived me of an hour's sleep. I never
had a worse lot for it. I have not wanted for any good thing, and
could always say with Job, ' The Lord gave, and the Lord taketh
away : blessed be the name of the Lord.' Though he took Job's, he
has not taken the whole of my property : I still have all my children."
The gentleman asked, " Can you read ? " " Yes," returned Samuel,
" if I had my spectacles out of my pocket." " There," replied the
gentleman, holding a paper in his hand, which was rendered visible by
the glimmering light of the stars — " There is a five pound note for
you. You love God and his cause ; and I believe you will never
want." Samuel's eyes were instantly filled with tears, and his heart
with gratitude. " Here," said he, " I saw the salvation of God. I
cried for joy all the way I went down the lonesome lanes : and when
I got to a public-house, I asked the landlord if he could change me a
five pound bill ; for I told him I could not have anything for myself
or my horse, unless he could change it. He said he could, if it were
a good one. So I got off my horse, and ordered him a good feed of
corn, and had some refreshment for myself. This was a fair salvation
from the Lord. When I got home, I told my wife ; she brast (burst)
into tears ; and we praised the Lord together." This was viewed by
Samuel somewhat in the light of a triumph over Martha, who had
chided him in the morning for taking so much money from homo
with him to a missionary meeting, to which he gave his time, his
labours, and his expenses. He therefore added, by way of making his
path more open to the purse in future, "You sec, we never give to
the Lord, but he gives in return."

His addresses in the pulpit rarely extended beyond half an hour.
This afforded time to engage in the work which was his favourite
employment — a prayer meeting ; and those meetings furnished him
very often with a knowledge of the progress of the "Word of life, as
the benefits received under preaching were more fully developed in
them, as well as cherished by the intercessory prayers of the faithful.
Having the unction of the Holy One — an anointing which he received
from Him that abode in him — he was enabled to proceed in the work

* The rpport lieard by the one, and the Language employed by the otlier, ttouIJ
scarcely comport with the suhjoct, if aiiplioil to a particular event which took place.
Martha's brother, who had a cousidoralile sum of money, on interest, in Royd's Iron
Works, near Leoils, expressed a wish to live and die with Samuel ; proposing to allow
the interest for his maintenance during life, and the principal at his death. The
proposal was accepted— her brother resided with them— the Company at the Iron
Works failed -the whole of the property was swept away— Samuel's hopes were
bli\,'htod, yet hd gonpronsiy kept him in his own house until the day of his dent)\,
and thus preTentod what uiuat othoi-wise inevitably have ensued -his goiu? to th«
workbouae.

THE ULLAGE BLACKSMITH. 113

with cheerfulness, and very often earned with him a commanding
authority over the feehngs and conduct of otliers. He Avas frequently
under high excitement ; so much so, indeed, as sometimes to over-
power his physical energies. " Oh ! " said he to Jiis friend Mr.
Dawson once, after a missionary meeting at Howden, in which he
had pleaded the cause of the heathen on the platform till he
was nearly exhausted — " Oh ! I am so happy, I shall surely die,
some of these times ! " On another occasion, when at Ponte-
fract, he remarked to a fi'iend, with ecstatic feeling, and in his
own peculiarly expressive language, "I felt as though I should
have sivehed (melted) into heaven." This is no common thought —
not even to be exceeded by Pope's "Dyixg Ciiristlan," whom he
represents as languishing into life. It is only in cases like this, that
we feel the force of Coleridge's remarks, in the motto selected for
the memoir ; and feel also, a disposition to subscribe to the senti-
ments of a critic, in a number of Blackwood's Magazine, where he
obsei*ves, — " That the knowledge that shone but by fits and dimly
upon the eyes of Socrates and Plato, whose eyes rolled in vain to
find the light, has descended into various lands as well as our own —
even into the huts where poor men lie ; and thoughts are familiar
there, beneath the low and smoky roof, higher and more sublime
than ever flowed from the lips of Grecian sago, meditating among the
magnificence of his pillared temples." Though the expression,
" pleading the cause of the heathen," may be a little too argumenta-
tive in its character, when applied to the speeches and addresses of
the " Village Blacksmith," and may excite the laugh of those who
employ the head to the exclusion of the heart in such work ; yet,
Samuel's honest and pathetic appeals very often touched the feelings,
and raised the " cash accounts," — raised, perhaps, with a smile — when
the dull spirits, sapless speeches, and tedious readings, of those who
could see a greater curse in a little incoherence and hilarity, than in
lukewarmness, produced only listlessness and a yawn. On one
occasion, a gentleman of grave aspect observed to him on the plat-
form, "Let us have no levity to-day, Sammy." This passed un-
noticed till Sammy arose, when he opened with — " Our Mr. Ingham,
there, said to me, ' Let us have no levity, Sammy.' Why, bless him,
if he look at himself, he can neither vialc folk laugh nor cry." This at
once enlisted the suffrages of the auditory on his behalf, and he
proceeded till he wound himself round every heart.

A still more expressive sentiment was employed by him, when
preaching once in his own neighbourhood, on " The Spirit and the
Bride say. Come. And let him that heareth say. Come. And let
him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take of the
water of life freelj'." He expatiated on the value and uses of water,

I

lit THE VILLAGK BLACKSMITH.

!is> fa.' aa coinnioii observation allowed him to proceed, — passing from
the clement to the " water of life," uliicli formed the prominent
feature of his text, — urging the freedom with which it was offered,
— and finally impressing his hearers with the importance of the
subject. He told them, in speaking of its value, that he himself
was unacquainted with it, — that he doubted whether any of his
hearers knew how to appreciate it, — that he doubted whether there
was a person upon the face of the earth Avho knew its worth, — nay,
further, that he did not believe an angel in heaven could enter into
its merit, — that, in short, he never heard of but one who knew its
value, and " that was the rich man in hell, who would have given a
world for a drop of it." The climacterical manner in which he thus
worked his way up to the point which he wished to gain, — like St.
Paul's light afflictions, and eternal weight of glory, — the amazing
contrast between a world and a drop — that drop solicited by a tongue
of fire — and the eternal destinies of his hearers suspended on their
acceptance of offered grace, to prevent the untimely knowledge of its
worth by its loss in perdition, would have done honour to the first
orators, in the best days of classic Greece and Rome.

During some of his moments of inspiration, he would manifc:st
considerable impatience, when he was likely to be deprived of an
opportunity of giving vent to the overflowings of his mind. A
speaker at a missionary meeting, who prosed a good deal, inflicted a
heavy punishment upon him in this way. Long before he had con-
^iuded, Samuel appeared extremely uneasy. " Sit still, Sammy,"
saifi the cliairman in an under tone, being near him, and on terms of
intimacy. " He is too long by the half," returned Samuel. After
sitting awhile with his hands clenched and fixed between his knees,
as in a vice, he again manifested sympton\s of restlessness ; when
again the chairman cndeavoui'cd quietly to impose silence, and inspire
a little long-suffering. Various rounds were exchanged between
them, one requesting the other to " be still," and the other requesting
that the si)eaker, who was unconscious of what was passing in the
rear, might be told to "give over." Tliu good brother continued
prosing, without the least sign of coming, in any moderate length of
timo, to a close. Samuel, at length, started up— who, by the way,
spoke only the feelings of others, who possessed more self-connnand
and prudence, though less couiagr, and said, turning to the chair-
man,— " Sir, that brotlicr does not lose his neighbour as himself; he
lioes not take the scriptural rule of doing to others, as he would that
dthers should do to him; for he will let nobody speak but himself."
Hero the business dropped between the parties ; the speaker being
left to take the credit of having pleased all except Samuel, and
Samuel brushing uj) his better feelings to engage the attention of the

THE VIJLAGE BLACKSMITH.

115

people during the few moments allotted to him, as the seconder of tbo
resolution. Being coupled on another occasion with a popular speaker.
Samuel turned to him, and said, " They have paired us like rabbits."

The Kev. J. R having heard either that he had actual];;

declmed business, or was on the eve of it, invited him, in thi.
beginning of October, 1825, to pay the friends a visit at Cross Hills,
a place in the Addingham Circuit. A few weeks passed over, and
not having heard from Samuel, the invitation began to wear away
from recollection. About the middle of November, Samuel one day
unexpectedly made his appearance, mounted on "Jackey." The
latter was cheerfully provided for by a friend, and Samuel took up
his abode with Mr. R.— -. He generally accompanied Mr. R. to the
different places of preaching — commenced the service with singing
and prayer — spoke from ten to twenty minutes — and then gave place
to Mr. R. to conclude the service. On one of these occasions, he
broke off his address rather abruptly, and suddenly stepping back in
the pulpit, said, " Brother R. will now preach to you, for two sermons
are better than one." A good feeling having been excited, Mr. R.
commenced his addi'ess by an allusion to the words of the Jewish
monarch, " What can the man do who cometh after the king ? "
Samuel, before any appUcation could bo made, exclaimed — " Do ! you
will do well enough, only go on." The service terminated much better
than this unexpected interlude at first promised. Two persons were
deeply affected with his public address ; and at another place, five
persons were brought to a sense of penitence.

The great commercial depression which distinguished the close oi
this year, was just beginning to be experienced. Many of the pooi
in Addingham and its neighbourhood, sold part of their furniture,
and whatever they could spare of other things, in order to procure
food. Samuel visited them ; and after having given all the money
away which he had deemed sufficient for his journey, a poor boy
entered the door-way of a house where he was sitting. The weather
was cold, and the boy was without neckerchief Samuel pitied him
— asked for a pair of scissors — took his handkerchief from his own
pocket — cut it into halves — and tied one of them round the neck of
the poor little fellow — rejoicing in the opportunity afforded of clothing
the naked.

He remained here nearly thi-ee weeks ; and just as he was leaving

Mr. R , to proceed to his friends at Grassington, he thanked him

for his kindness towards him, and then with tears said — " You must
let me have some money to pay the toll-bars, and get Jackey a feed
•of corn." Till now, Mr. R. was not aware that he was penniless ; and
yet, in the midst of it, he seemed more mindful of his horse than of
himself. After having spent a short time at GrarSsington, he visited

116 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

Skipton, whore he remained three weeks, and was rendered very
usel'ul in different parts of the circuit. Miss Lister, of Colne (now
Mrs. Howarth, of Clithero,) having heard much of his zeal, and
power with God in prayer, sent an invitation to him, to spend a few
days at her house. Here, also, he tarried nearly three weeks, taking
occasional rambles into the Burnley Circuit. Some of the persons
who were brought to God through his labours during this visit, have
reached the goal, and others are pressing towards the mark, in order
to obtain the prize. From Colne he proceeded home, where he
remained but a short time, yielding to other invitations.

We find him in the neighboui'hood of Huddersfield and Denby-
Dale, in the latter part of January, 1826, with E. Brook, Esq., as his
companion in labour. His attention to others led him to neglect
himself; and the latter finding him without a proper winter covering,
jiurchased an excellent top-coat to preserve him from the cold. But
though he was thus equipped, and could speak of " plenty of coals "
and " good fires," the " cold storms " which howled around him, and
the heavy "snows" which fell, kindled the sensibilities of his
nature towards Martha, whom he had left at home, and whom he
addressed in his letter as his " Dear bosom friend." In a letter dated
January 24'th, from Denby-Dale, he exhorted his daughter to do all
ill her "power" to "make" her "dear mother comfortable" — to
" keep her well happed up by day and by night " — " to give her a
little wine to nourish her " — assuring her ttiat she " should be recom-
|)(jiised" — requesting her to write immediately, should anything
untoward take place — and telling her, that he bore them all up,
" both in public and private, at a throne of grace." He solicited a
" long letter " in return, informing him how they were " going on in
the best things ; " whether or not " Mrs. Porter " was dead ; and
then, with the fondness of a grandfather — the cherub forms twining
round his heart, and romping about in his imagination — he adds,
" Let me know how my dear grandchild does," and say whether she
c;in yet "run," holding otit "her bonny little hand." This is a stroke
of pure nature. The autumn of life turns away from the gloom of
its winter, seems to be per2)ctually reverting to the freshness, and
bloom, and loveliness of its spring, as though anxious to live it over
again in the innocent child, or by feeling after it, and catching hold
of some of its joys, it experienced a kind of resuscitation, and went
forth with renewed vigour.

While in this quarter he sj^oke of having " plenty of work, and
good wages," — the wages of " peace, joy, and love," — of sinners being
"saved," — of "backsliders" being healed, — of God placing "the ring"
on the finger, and " the shoes on the feet " of the returned " prodigal."
His miud, he observed, was " kept in perfect peace ;" and such waa

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 117

tho joy he experienced, such his " prospect of glory," when he arose
one morning, that he concluded, that the Lord was either about to
" fit " him " for some trial," or to grant liim instant preparation for
his "glorious inheritance." He had been engaged in the course of
the week in which he wrote, in begging for a chapel, " the gi'ound "
of which, he observed, was given to him by " Mr. D., of Highflats,"
a member of the Society of Friends ; and the week after he purposed
going to " Penistone," to assist in begging for another chapel in that
place.

In his perambulations among the sick and the poor, he entered
the house of a woman with seven children, who had had only one pound
of animal food for the family, for the space of about foui* weeks. Her
tale of distress required no embellishment, to find access to the ear
and heart of Samuel. As soon as he heard it, he gave her some
money to procure a " meat dinner " for herself and children tho
following day.

After " finishing his work," as he termed it, in that neighbour-
hood, he returned home, where he again remained but a short time.
He set off for Eochdale, in February or March, taking Bradford on
his way, at which place he was pressed to remain from Tuesday to
Thursday, preaching at Great Horton and Low-Moor, and holding
prayer-meetings. On reaching Rochdale, where he had some family
affairs to settle, he found ample gi'ound for the exercise of his patience,
through the nefarious conduct of a female and some others, who had
appropriated to themselves the wearing appai'el and other property,
which was left to his wife by her sister, Mrs. L., denying at the same
time such appropriation. His want of confidence in the gentlemen
of the law, made him decline all legal measures ; and his faith in God
led him to believe that things would work round to a proper point, in
the order of Divine Providence ; and though tried at first, he soon
lost all sense of wrong, in the means of grace in which he was con-
stantly engaged, the prospect of a visit to Manchester, and the sei-vices
comiected with the opening of a new chapel at Rochdale, stating
the amount of the subscriptions and collections " to be nearly two
thousand pounds," and exhorting Martha to make progress in piety,
and to solace herself with the thought, that though she was deprived
of her right in her sister's wardrobe here, she should hereafter receive
" a white garment," one that would " never grow threadbare." With
what kind of grace Martha received the exhortation and encourage-
ment, is not for the writer to state : but she must have viewed it as a
poor apology for indifference m his own cause, as well as an inade-
quate protection from the cold of winter. Muffled up in his " new
top-coat," and forgetting his advice to his daughter, to " hap " her
"mother by night and by day," he now, with the opportunity before

118 xnE viu.Ar.E blacksmith.

him, of adding to her attire, seemed to act on the comfortless principle
of " be ye warmed," or as though she had been all spirit, and the
bare mention of a future state was sufficient to kindle a fire that would
warm the whole system, liut Martha found she had a body as well
as a soul : however, she knew he meant well ; and this was only one
case among many in which she had to bear with him, and to look for
'' treasure in heaven," as a substitute for a little more upon earth.

Though he rose superior to the trials of this case, when imme-
diately engaged in preaching and visiting, yet there were moments
when its hardship returned upon him, so as to lead him to dwell upon
(iiem in conversation with his friends. !Mrs. L., one of Martha's
sisters, was possessed of ^£600 on her marriage. The interest of
this, should she die first, was to be enjojed by the husband, and then
the principal was to revert to her own family on his demise. Contrary
to the original agreement, £500 of this was made over by the husband
to a member of his own family, and Martha was cut off with the
remainder. To secure this, she was obliged to visit Rochdale, in
order to sign the writings ; and being extremely infirm, the expense,
abided to the difficulty of conveyance, rendered the journey painful
and tedious. Samuel thought, on coming to the whole of this pro-
perty, that he would be able to devote more of his time to the public
service of his Saviour. Looking back upon the expense, trouble, and
disappointment, he observed to Mr. Dawson once, I have prayed to
the Lord, that he would send me no more miser money." Mr. I).
very significantly returned, "I dare say your prayer will be answered,
Samuel."

Having received invitations to difforent places, and being gene-
rally mounted on his blind, but favourite horse, " Jackey," whom
he esteemed for his work's sake — having carried the heralds of peace
for some years round the York Circuit — he was enabled to extend his
circle. It was in the course of this journey that he lelt, as previously
promised, his MS. life with the writer at Manchester. He extended
his circuit to Bolton, Clithero, Colne, Addingham, Grassington,
IJurnley, Padiham, Bacup, Rosendale, Bury, Katcliffe Close, and
many of the adjacent and intermediate places. The absence of the
llev. W. M'Kitrick from the Burnley Circuit, who had been called to
Leeds to attend to some family arrangements, led Samuel to remain
longer in Burnley and its neighbourhood, than in some other places,
being requested to attend Mr. M'Kitrick's appointments. The effects
of the " general panic," so called, were still experienced, both by tiie
manufacturers and their men; and few districts suffered more than
tlie one from fifteen to twenty miles round the circle in which he
laboured. The sick and the poor were the objects of his constant
solicitude ; and many were the scenes of distress he witnessed, »a

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 119

<ren as the cases he relieved. Writing to a friend, he remarks, " 1
have seen much suffering and many privations since I saw you. The
sufferings of the people have been neither few nor small. I have
been in the midst of them for three months ; and I believe my dear
Lord and Master has sent me here. What with praj'ing with the
people, and what with begging for them, I have had full employment.
I was so affected one night that I could not take my rest." Though
he took a fair sum of his own money into the neighbourhood witli
him, it was soon exhausted. The friends were kind to him in grant-
ing him supplies; but he was always poor; for no sooner were his
resources recruited, than he flew to the haunts of wretchedness,
prayed with the people, conversed with them, and wept over them.
One circumstance which affected him moi-e than almost any other
which came under his observation was, the case of a poor child whom
he saw sitting and satisfying the cravings of hunger, by devouring
some grains which had been brought from a brew-house.

On finding the demands made upon his benevolence pressing him
beyond what he was able to endure, he asked some friends whether
something could not be done by way of public subscription. He was
answered that the bulk of the people were poor, and that the manu-
facturers were equally distressed with the persons they had employed,
and were obliged to dismiss, because of a want of trade and public
confidence. He was informed, however, that there was one gentle-
man in the neighbourhood, of great opulence, who was capable of
imparting seasonable and adequate relief — only, the informants inti-
mated, that he was a member of the Roman Catholic Church, and
might not be quite accessible to persons making Protestant appeals.
" No matter what he is," returned Samuel, " the people are not to
starve." Addressing the same friend, in the letter just referred to,
he observes, " I asked them to go with me, but they I'cfused, because
of his religion. I told them that the Lord had the hearts of all men
in his keeping, and that he kept the hearts of the Roman Catholics
also. I went to the Lord, and asked Him to go with me." It was
too late in the evening for him to present the case ; but he was up
betimes the next morning, when, mounted on his favourite horse, he
proceeded to Townelcy Hall, near Burnley, the rei.'idence of Peregrine
Edward Towneley, Esq.

He knocked at the door, and the knock being answered by a ser-
vant not in livery, whom he thought sufficiently gentlemanly in his
appearance to be the master of the domain, he asked at once, " Are
you Mr. Towneley, Sir ? " Being answered in the negative, he
inquired, " Can I see him. Sir ? " The servant replied that he could,
and showed him into a room. Mr. Towneley soon appeared, and,
witli his usual promptitude, frankness, and condescension, inquired

120 Tire ^^LLAG^ blacksmith.

the en-and of his visitor. Mr. T., though perfectly gentlemanly in
his manners — which the biographer knows from personal interviews
—yet happens to be one of those characters who prefer their real
worth to be brought to the test of the understanding and the heart,
rather than in the show of fashion and finery to the eye ; his attire,
therefore, being somewhat less prepossessing than that of the person
who opened the liall door, Samuel had recourse to his old question to
ascertain the fact, — " Are you Mr. Towneley, Sir ? " This point being
settled, lie proceeded with his " tale of woe," — stating what he had
seen, heard, and done ; finally bringing the subject home to the
bosom and to the coffers of his auditor. " I am come. Sir," said he,
" to relate to you the sufTering state of the poor in Burnley. I have
been a month in the neighbourhood, and my employment has been
to visit them. Many of them are without religion. It affects my
mind that I cannot help them. I have given all the money I had ; I
am now between fifty and sixty miles from my own home ; and if I
had a turnpike gate to go through, I have not a penny to jiay it with.
If something is not done for the poor, they will be pined to death, and
it will bring a judgment upon our island."

" The poor," returned Mr. Towneley, " must be relieved; but how
is it to be done P " Samuel replied, — " The best way will be to call a
meeting of the respectable inhabitants of the town, and to form a
committee; and then present relief will be given." Mr. T. wa.s
affected with his simplicity ; and, being convinced of his integrity,
observed, that if any measure could be devised to promote the public
good, he would with great pleasure accede to it, and would set the
example of a public subscription. He further added, that he would
be glad to meet a committee of gentlemen at the earliest period, and
at any hour of the da}'. Samuel proceeded, — " This noble man sent
the next morning, by his steward, £150 for the sufferers." A public
meeting followed, for the purpose of taking into consideration the
distress of the poor; and if the "Village Blacksmith" had not the
credit of entirely originating — of whicli, perhaps, few will be disposed
to rob him — he was at least the cause of hastening it.

Suffering, in this case, as in many others, led to violence. But,
said Samuel, "My soul was kept in perfect peace in the midst of all.
Our friends would not lot mo leave them till the disturbance ceased.
I prayed for the poojtlo, and warned them of tlicir danger. I told
them, that if they did not drop it, they would be cut off; and the
Lord stayed the wrath of man. When the Lord works, he works
like a God.* He slopped the way of the wickod."

• A poor liiit pious iietn"o-woni:iii, beiiiR nddrcssrd by her teacher oti the groodnesi
'"f G(»l, WHS linked whether she was not astonished at his mercy iu ^viug his Son, auJ
biM noiiik-BceoHiop iu tpviu); tbut too for ber. ijlio rephed, she waa not. ^uppoaiuf

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 121

The writer attended a missionary meeting at Clithero, in the
course of the spring, at which Samuel was present, and at which he
spoke. Samuel preached on the occasion, early in the morning, and
improved the case of the gaoler at Philippi, recorded in the Acts of
the Apostles, taking for his text the 31st verse. Many of the
thoughts were original — some of them touching — not a few pertinent
— but, as a whole, without connection.

Though his address, from a want of classification, might come
under the general appellation of truth at random; still it was truth;
and as such, God, in the aboundings of his mercy to the sinner, and
in condescension to the instrument, honoured it with the stamp of
his own signet. A person but indifferently skilled in incentives to
vanity, asked Samuel one day, how it could be accounted for, that,
wbile some of the most polished and systematic discourses of some
preachers fell pointless upon the hearts of the hearers, his homeless
addresses took such effect. " Why," returned Samuel, " their
preaching is like a line ; they go straight forward, and only hit one :
but mine goes out and in — to the right and to the left, and running
this way and that way among the crowd," — as though he had a
cracker running riot in his imagination, thrown among the spectators
from the hand of a person displaying fire-works — "it is sure to strike
some." He employed the same metaphorical language on another
occasion, to the Eev. James Wood, only varying it in his application.
" I cannot," said he, " go straight forward in preaching ; but when I
miss my mark in going, I often fell them in coming back again."
Another friend urging upon him the propriety of employing some-
thing like system in his addresses — told him to divide and sub-
divide them like his brethren. He was not aware, apparently, of
Samuel's want of the power of classification. Listening to his ad-
viser, with his face to the ground, as was sometimes his habit, he
turned his view upward, on the closing sentence, and with an expres-
sive look, as well as peculiar tone, both indicative of a belief that the
speaker was not very well versed in the grand secret of useful
preaching, — " Why, bless you, ham," said he, " I give it them hot off
the hahstone!" — indirectly intimating, that the spiritual "bread"

that she was not siifBciently impressed with the subject, and defective in the fine
feeling of gratitude, he continued to expatiate on the vastness and freedom of his love,
giving additional emphasis to his language, and colouring to his subject :—" "What ?
aro you not astonished at this ?" " No, Massa," was stiU the reply. Turning upon her
with a degree of impatience, — " And why are you not astonished ? " he inquired.
"Why, Massa, me no astonished, because it be just like Him!" The simplicity and
eubhmity of this sentiment, which borders upon that of Samuel Hick, but leaving him
still in the rear both for originality and beauty, are rarely to be equalled by the sayings
of persons in educated society ; and fill us with regret to think that the body con-
taining a mind so fit for freedom, should be ia bondage to one probably many degrees
her inferior io intelleot.

122 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

provided by many of the systemisers, was often very cold, in conse-
quence of the time employed in preparation, before it reached the
people. He had long wished the Rev. R. Newton to preach at
Micklefield ; and, as an inducement, proposed to give two of his ser-
mons for one by Dr. Newton, which he thought — with equal sincerity
and simplicity — would be an equivalent, both in actual labour and
probable usefulness. This, in Samuel, was not the language of pride
and self-sufficiency : he " spake as a child."

It appears that, during his tour to the " west," the " laborious
work," as he expresses himself, through which he had to pass, was
such as to reduce his phj'sical strength. But, in the midst of it, he
could sing, " Labour is rest, and pain is sweet," and then would
exultingly exclaim, " God has been with me ; if I have lost weight in
body, I have gained it in soul. He has given me strength according
to my day." Horton, Wakefield, and other places were visited on his
return. At one of them he took for his text, 1 John i. 7, and was
rather pleased than otherwise, to find a gentleman had taken his
sermon in short-hand, and still more so to know that he had been
benefited by it, though not a little surprised to be presented by him
with half-a-sovereign at the close of the service. While in the Pately
Bridge Circuit, which was another of the scenes of his labour, in the
course of this excursion, he wrote from Mr. Bramley's, Brown Bank,
and in his letter observes, " I am where my soul and body rest in
peace — peace that the world can neither give nor take away — a
peace that is constant." The body and soul resting in peace, has
all the quiet about it of a .saint silently waiting in the grave for the
morning of the resurrection ; and it was this feeling that rendered
the " laborious work," just referred to, oa.sy — like St. Paul's "light
affliction."

Home had still its attractions ; but his zeal pennitted it to become
only a partial resting-place. Passing over some other fields of labour,
we find him, towards the close of July, as appears from his letters,
exercising his talents at Stamford Bridge, Copmanthorpe, Acoml),
and other places in the York Circuit, and pressed to pay another visit
to Bolton. One part of his business was, to beg for a chapel ; and
" for every sovereign" received, he observes, " God gave his brethren
and himself a soul." But, though "plenty of money" was obtained,
"no small stir" was made by the enemies of religion, when they wit-
nessed the grace of God in the new converts. In the neighbourhood
of Stamford Bridge, especially, jicrsecution showed its odious front,
in the steward of a gentleman of landed property, who threatened to
turn the farmers off their farms, if they persisted iti attending the
ministry of the Methodist Preachers. Samuel " thought this a voi'\
hard case," and pi'occcded at once to the fountain-head for rcdrcsa —

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 123

to the landed proprietor himself. He told the gentleman, that he
same to " beg a favour." On being asked the purport of his request,
he replied, " To ask you to let your tenants have the same liberty the
king grants his subjects." Though partly alive to the subject, the
reply demanded further explanation ; and Samuel added, " To let your
tenants go to the Methodist chapel." The gentleman, -with consider-
able warmth, interposed his interdict, stating that they should not.
Samuel continued to urge his plea, by affirming that the tenants
objected to were the best " church-goers" in the neighbourhood — that
there was service in the Established Church only in the forenoon —
and they wished to hear the Methodists in the afternoon. The
threatening of the steward, which now appeared to be only the echo
of the master's voice, was repeated and confirmed ; and one of the
reasons assigned was, that the Methodists were " a disaffected people."
This was a tender point. "Sir," said Samuel, "you do not know
them as well as I do. I have known them for fifty years. They are
the most loyal body of people living, and they are doing more good
than any other people upon earth : and. Sir, I think it is very hard
tliat you should attempt to prevent your tenants from praying to God,
who is sending his judgments abroad in our island, when jirayer is
the only weapoii that can turn them aside." Samuel, alas ! was dis-
missed without obtaining the object of his petition ; but he still
exulted in the firmness and perseverance manifested by the persons
against whom the threatening was directed, and over whom it hung
like an angry cloud ; rejoicing especially in one whom he claimed as
his " name-sake."

He paid another visit to York, and Stamford Bridge, in March,
1827; and in a letter, like a song of triumph, observed, that he was
iu his "element" — had "lived to see good days" — "never saw such a
revival before" — that, if the Lord would only grant him the desire of
his heart, a " general revival," he would then " say with old Simeon,
' Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes
have seen thy salvation' " — that he had been " assisting to hold a
love-feast," and though he had been " a Methodist for so many years, he
never experienced such a love-feast in all his life" — that the sum of
" eleven pounds had been collected in it for the poor" — that the " family
increased" so rapidly, another chapel would be necessary — that the
"friends in York liked his doctrine of sanctification" — that several had
obtained "liberty," while he was preaching in St. George's Chapel —
end that "some had been sanctified;" then turning upon Martha,*

* Martha deprived herself of an occasional blessing, through the natural warmth
of her temper; and the great difference in Sainiiel, between his converted and uncon-
verted state, is perceptible iu the effect he iieniiitted it to have ui)on his mind. In the
first instance, he either rebelled or fled from it ; in the second, he was all meekness,
•xbortatiou, and anxiety, to see her enjojing the perfection of the dispensation luxloT

124 TnE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

wliom he was addressing, he proceeded, " I hope you are getting hold
of the hem of our Lord's garment. You shall be made whole. I
know yon once enjoyed sanctification. The fountain is still open.
The Spirit and the bride say, Come."

In the course of this visit, a young man heard him preach, who
stood rebuked before God under the Word. Nature and grace had a
powerful struggle in the onset : he was so exasperated at Samuel, as
to avow, if ever he went again to hear him, " he would take a ro]ie
and hang him with it." Still the subject of conflicting feelings, he
went once more; but the lion no longer shook his mane for the con-
test : a little child might have led him. The same voice which aroused
his fury allayed it ; he became calm — heard with attention — mixeu
faith with hearing — believed — and was saved.

which she lived. On one occasion, prior to Lis conversion, he left the honse, with .an
intention never to return. A friend asking him why he relented, Samuel replied —
"Why, bam, as I was crossing the field, I saw the bouny white lambs playing; they
looked so innocent and happy, that I thought I coidd not leave them, and so went
back again." He was a mere child of nature; and nature, here, with its innocent
srambols, laid a firmer hold on his heart, than the recollection of his vows before the
marriage altar. But now — as Martha had often to bear with him — so, uncomplaining,
lie bears with her ; and mutual good is the object of both. Samuel's is not the first
heart that has been siiiittcu with tendei-uess at the sight of a lamb; and than the
first glance of the first Innib of the season, there is scarcely anything more calculated
to awaken the sensiljilities of our nature. The associations are too obvious to be
insisted upon ; and a heart so susceptible of the tender and the innocent, is capable of
being led in any direction, and rionnd up to any pitch.

YU£ TILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 125

CHAPTER X

Ilis first visit to Loudou— dialogue at an inn on the road — Wesleyan missionary meeting
— preaches at South wark — exalts Divine truth at the expense of human know-
ledge— persons benefited by his addresses — his notions of nervous complaints — his
second visit to the metropolis— Mrs. Wrathall : her character, experience, and
afiiiction — Samuel's general views and feelings, as connected with his second
visit — pleads strenuously for the doctrine of sanctification — is both opposed and
supported in it by persons of the Baptist persuasion — receives a gentle admonition
from Martha — a specimen of one of his public addresses, when in one of his uicet
felicitous moods.

His visit to the metropolis, which has only been incidentally noticed,
desei'ves to be introduced distinctly, and at large. He was there
twice ; and though a period of eight years occupied the space between,
they are here classed together, not only because of the affinity of sub-
ject and place, as has been observed in other cases ; but because of
the non-importance of the one compared with the other, rendering a
distinct notice less necessary.

It appears, in a communication from Mr. "Wrathall to the writer,
that Samuel's " first visit to London was in May, 1819," on which
occasion " he remained somewhat more than a month." Though he
had a daughter in London, then housekeejaer to Mr. W., and other
relations in the neighbourhood, a more powerful spring was found in
the General Annual Wesleyan Missionary Meeting, to give an impetus
to his movements towards the metropolis, than either in friendship or
relationship. On this trip he remarks, " I had a vei'y pleasant journey,
as I had the Lord with me ; and the weather being fine, made my way
very comfortable. I sung hymns in the night to keep me awake.''
On the coach arriving at Retford, time was allowed for the passengers
to take refreshment, when Samuel and the other persons on the out-
side alighted, together with four gentlemen from within. Samuel
having as usual beat " quick time," suddenly disappeared. One of the
inside passengers inquired pleasantly of the coachman, where the man
was who " had been so merry on the top ; " and was answered, that
he had "gone into the kitchen." A request was immediately sent,
inviting him into the dining-room, with which he complied. The
room, the table, and the provision, at first surprised him. To the
occasional and alternate interrogatories of each, he rejjlied ; the sub.
etance of part of which is as follows, and lor the brevity of which every

126 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

coach-traveller will be able to furnish an answer, havnng been re-
peatedly saluted with the horn, when his appetite has urged him to
stay.

Gentleman. " We have sent for you to ask you to sit down at
table with us."

Samuel. " I am obliged : but I have ordered the waiter to draw
me a pint of ale, and I have plenty of beef and bread with me."

Gent. "You have been such good company, we have agreed to
treat you with your supper."

On this he sat down, and partook of their hospitable cheer ; tlio
four gentlemen and himself constituted the party.

Gent. " How far may you be going on this road ?"

Sam. " To London."

Gent. "How far have you travelled?"

Sam. " From Micklefield, near Ferrybridge."

Gent. " What business calls you up to town ? "

Sam. " I am going to a noble missionary meeting."

Gent. " Don't you think you have a poor errand ? "

Here an armistice was instantly proclaimed between Samuel and
his supper ; and, looking expressively at the speaker, he said, " Sir,
I would not turn back if you were to give me five pounds for
doing it."

Gent. "Perhaps not. Who pays your expenses?"

Sam. " I pay my own, Sir. I have plenty of money ; and if you
dispute it, I will let you see it."

Such a confession, in some societies — as he had upwards of £170
upon him — would have been prized, and his ignorance of the world
might have been improved upon : but he was in honourable company.
On his offer being declined, another of the gentlemen struck in —

" There is a deal of money spent upon the heathen. If we are to
suppose that the Lord will never send them to a place of punishment
for not believing in a Saviour of whom they have never heard, would
it not be much better to let them alone."*"

Sam. "The Lord has declared, tliat he will give his Son tlio
heathen for his inheritance, and the utmost parts of the earth for his.
possession, — that the Gospel of the kingdom shall be preached in all
the world, — and that then will come the end, when all shall know liim
from the least to the greatest."

He could not enter into the subtleties in which the question was
involved, and with which it has often been perplexed by the selfish,
the unbelieving, and the designing; but he cast anchor in God's
designs, commands, and promises, which were the general notions he
wished to express — his design to save, his promise to give, and his-
command to preach to the heathen ; and there he remained riding in

THli VILLAGE BLA.CKS1IITE , 127

etafety : what God commanded, he considered himself bound to per-
form; and what God had promised, he knew He was faithful to
fulfil.

Gent. " Do you intend to deliver a speech on the occasion?"

Sam. " 0 no : I expect there will be a number of gentlemen at
the meeting, from all parts of the world, and I hope to have the
pleasure of hearing them make their noble speeches."

Gent. " If you will promise to make a speech, we will come and
hear you."

The conversation was interrupted by the announcement of the
horses being ready to start. Samuel resumed his seat and his song,
and arrived in safety the next day in London. At the pubUc meeting
he found his way to the platform ; and to his great surprise, one of
the gentlemen who had regaled him with his supper at Eetford, took
a seat next him, and presented him with an orange ; but he was still
more astonished, when the gentleman's name was announced as
R. F., Esq., of Bradford, Yorkshire, who was called upon to second a
resolution.

The first chapel he preached in was that of Southwark, and the
second Hind Street. On the first occasion he took one of his favourite
texts, James i. 27. A gentleman accosted him after the service, in a
frank way, — " My good old Yorkshireman, though I could not under-
stand the whole of your language, part of which might have been
Danish for anything that I know to the contrary ; yet I have had my
soul blessed under your sermon." Samuel repUed, "It makes no
matter, Sir, what the language is, if the soul only gets blessed."* The
gentleman invited him to spend a day at his house, stating, on Samuel

* This circumstauce was afterwards related and improved by Samuel in a missionary
meeting, in a way equally expressive of his ignorance and his piety. Some observa-
tions had been made on the labour requisite to acquire a knowledge of the languages,
before a missionary would be able to address himself to the heathen, so as to be under-
stood. Samuel, who was always impressed with the notion that he w;is called to be
a missionary, and took his visionary voyage to the West Indies, noticed in a preceding
page, as an intimation of it, not only saw his own way more clearly to go abroad, but
liclieved he perceived a much shorter cut across the field of labour and travel for
others. The Southwark gentleman was produced by him as an example of the power
of truth to bless, without a knowledge of the language in which it was conveyeil.
This case seemed to impart new light — remove every impediment — set a missionary
immediately upon his work ; and in its novelty, Samuel appeared to have lost sight of
the apostle's observations on an " unknown tongue." His error lay — not in the dis-
tinction— had he been able to comprehend it — between truth in the spirit and truth in
the letter — between human language as addressed to the ear, and the power of God as
felt in the heart — between sound and sense, — between what a man may hear, and what
he may feel ; — and in taking it for granted, that it was that portion of the address
which the gentleman did not understand, rather than that which he did, which was so
beneficial to him — in taking it for granted, that a special case might be applied as a
general rule, — and in supposing that the use of the understanding would be suspended,
p.ither thau the word should return void, or the work of grace should not go on. He
now, in his simphcity, added to his call his qitalification, — the latter founded on au
irroneous view of the overwhtlming power of God.

128 THE VILLARE BLACKSMITH.

observing that, as a stranger, he would not be able to find bis way,
that he would send a servant to conduct him thither. "WTiile he was
yet in the vestry, taking a glass of wine — a treat with which he had
been but rarely indulged in small country places — a lady entered,
inquiring, under strong feelings, whether she could see the minister.
Samuel supposing the inquiry to be for one of the preachers on the
circuit, who was present, kept his seat. The pi-eacher went up to the
lady, and requested to know whether it was the person that had been
preaching she wished to see. Casting a glance round the place, and
seeing Samuel, she exclaimed, " 0 yes : that is the person." Samuel
sprang from his seat, with his wine and biscuit in his hand, sapng,
" What do you please to want with me, madam ? " " O, I wish to tell
you, Sir," was the reply, "what I felt while you were preaching.
A trembling came all over me, and I could not hold a limb still."
Samuel, who had but one cause for all these things, and happened to
be correct in this instance, as well as in many others, said, " It is the
work of the Spirit of God, and we will return the Lord thanks for it."
The proposition was accepted ; and he observed, " Though she was
diessed in fine silks, which crackled again, she knelt down on the
veslry floor, and while pleading, the Lord blessed her soul."

Another case came under his observation, which was more obsti-
nate than that of the lady, and assumed to him an air of novelty. He
was sent to pray with a gentleman, whose aflliction was stated to liim
to be a " nervous complaint." His own nerves being of a wiry make
— living in a neighbourhood of health — and moving generally among
that class of people whose nervous system is kept continually braced
by labour, and by the breeze, he had to take both his head and his
heart to school on the suliject. The malady assumed an awful
appearance to him ; for when he entered the room, he remarked,
that the person " was sunk so low, that he lay on the sofa like a dead
man."

As he had but one cause for the stirrings of the human spirit, so
he had but one cure for most of our maladies : faith in Christ was hia
heal-all, and was his grand specific here. He spent nearly a whole
day with the gentleman, cither praying with him, or sitting by his
side, singing h^Tuns, relating his experience, and exhorting him to
the exercise of faith. In his addresses, he told him, that it was only
" holy medicine " that " could cure " him, and that " all the doctors in
London could not cure a nervous complaint, for it was a soul com-
plaint." On parting, the gcnllcinan entreated him to rej/oat his visit,
and added, " I would freely give all I possess to be as hapi)y as you
are." This case made a deep impression on Samuel's mind, and in
tis reflections aflenvards, he remarked, " I pity any one who is
troubled with tLi.s dreadful complaint j but I believe many fall into it

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 129

for want of faith. They reason with themselves, and with the enemy,
instead of reasoning with God, who says, ' Come, and let ns reason
together.' " Little as honest Samuel knew of the subject, he might
have been further wrong, than in supposing that mental agony will
induce physical debility.

While we cease to wonder that the gentleman should look upon
Samuel's state as enviable, we are convinced that no one, except a
child in spirit, could have sat and sung hymns by the side of such
misery — one whose spirit was tuned only for a " dark-woven lay."*

The principal part of his time was occupied in visiting the sick,
and in attending the ordinances of God ; and thus engaged, he might
well say, " I was very happy all the time I was in London." Busi-
ness requiring his presence at home, he remained only a month in
the metropolis.

His second visit was in 1827, but the day and the month when he
set off are uncertain ; a correspondent connected with the family
states it to have been in May, while a letter written by himself bears
testimony to his having been in Yorkshire in the month of July.
The memory might have possibly been depended upon in the first
instance ; and the first visit having been in May, might have been
the occasion of the error. His daughter Eosamond had entered into
the marriage state with Mr. Wrathall, in the interval of his visits.
This took place in 1824 ; and it was on account of her long and severe
indisposition that he took the present journey. The following brief
narrative of this excellent woman, whom it may be proper here to
introduce, was published in the obituary of the Wesleyan Methodist
Magazine, by the Eev. Richard Eeece.f

" Mrs. Eosamond Wrathall was the daughter of Mr. Samuel
Hick, of Micklefield, Yorkshire ; a man generally known, and highly
esteemed for his usefulness among the Methodists for nearly half a
century ; and who, with his pious wife, considered it their duty to
impress upon the minds of their children the great truths of the
Gospel. Early indications were given, that the heart of Mrs. Wrathall
was under the influence of Divine grace. At the age of seven years,
her mind was enlightened to see the evil nature and dreadful conse-
quence of sin. Although she was humble and teachable, and very
dutiful and affectionate to her parents, yet she felt the need of pardon,
and of the purification of her natui-e. The period at which she

* See Appendix.

t 1828, p. 499. A curious " Prospectus for publisliing the Life of the late Samuel
Hick, of Micklefield," issued from the press in the summer of 1830, which promised
to " contain the experience and happy death of Mrs. Eathall, of London, daughter
of the deceased, who died whilst he was in London." It is presumed that the late
Mrs. Weathall was intended by the author, and that, through his ignorance of
tbe subject, he adopted another name.

130 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

received the blessing of justification, through faith in the merits of
Christ, is unknown ; but it must have been at an early age. During
the whole of her Christian course, she was an ornament to lier pro-
fession, and was greatly attached to the Methodist Connexion. She
refrained from evil-speaking, and used her influence to restrain the
practice of it in otliers. She put on the ornament of a meek and
quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price. Her dispo-
sition was naturally generous ; and after her conversion, she was
constantly devising liberal things. She spared no labour nor ex-
pense to alleviate the necessities of the poor, and lead them to Christ.
She was a pattern of integrity and piety. At the commencement of
her long affliction, she was deeply convinced of the need of a further
work of grace upon her heart ; and desired that her excellent father
might be sent for, that she might enjoy the benefit of his counsel and
faithful prayers."

Samuel, after a safe journey, alighted at the " Saracen's Head," and
proceeded to the house of his son-in-law. He found Mrs. W. very
much indisposed. The blessing she sought had been the subject of
his preaching and conversation for many years, as well as the ex-
perience of his soul ; and his child's anxiety for it led him to dwell
upon it more than usual, in public and in private, and also in his
correspondence during his stay in London.

" Her mind," continues Mr. Reece, " became more and more calm
and stayed upon God ; she received the blessing of entire sanctifica-
tion, which she so much desired, and continued in the exercise of
prayer and thanksgiving to the end of her life."

During Samuel's second stay in this human ant-hill, whose swarms
are always in motion, and whose streets gave him the notion, in his
own language, of a constant "fair," he laboured under the impression,
that a great work was to be done — done instantly — and that he was
to sustain a share in the toil and in the glory. He sighed over the
irreligious part of the community, composed, as he stated, "of Jews,
Turks, Infidel. , and Barbarians," all of whom might "believe" in the
existence of a " God," but lived as though there were none; con-
cluding, that if it were not for the " few righteous " to be found in
the city, it would at once be " destroyed like Sodom." With these
views, and with a heart thus affected, he embraced every opportunity
of rendering himself useful, and could speak of " having plenty of
work " — of being often " tired in it, but not of it " — of " preaching
in chapels and in the open air " — of " making collections for chai)el3
and for schools " — of " visiting the sick " — of attending " love-feasts "
— assisting in "prayer-meetings" — dining and })raying on board
Bome of the vessels on the Thames — and in the midst of all this, of
having " plenty of friends," and of being "hearty and happy" One

THE VILLAGT! BLACKSMTTn. 131

of the vessels having to perform only a short voyage, and having
reached her destination before he left town, returning with fruit and
spice, he took care devoutly to connect with his notice of her safety,
the prayer-meeting, which he himself and some friends held "in the
cabin," before her departure ; and also to exhort Martha who was not
likely to be benefited by any part of the cargo, to make progress in
piety, and both he and she would hereafter be indulged with a taste
of the " grapes " of the kingdom, and with " wine on the lees, well
refined." It was here that he not only attempted to moralise, but
philosophise, stating it to be his opinion, that if the Lord had not
" sent the tide through the city, to sweeten the air, a plague " would
have been the result ; as though the tide had followed rather than
preceded the foundation of its walls. But Samuel was a Christian,
not a philosopher ; his head was less the receptacle of knowledge than
his heart was of grace.

While he laboured as though the immortal interests of the whole
of the inhabitants of the city rested upon him, he cast a glance of
solicitude towards home, telling Martha, that it was " not out of
sight, out of mind : " and requesting to be informed how she was " in
body and soul ; " repeatedly forwarding her not only " parcels," but
what he knew she "liked" — a "cheap letter." His letters indicate
also deep anxiety for the work of God at Micklefield : and among
others, an ardent desire for the salvation of a " Mr. Coulson." Nor
did he forget his "old servant Jackey," whom he wished to be
attended to, and preserved in his blindness from falling into the
" Ijogs." * His desire to be useful, led him to request Martha to
enlarge his "furlough;" intimating, at the same time, his readiness
to return on the first notice of his being " wanted at home."

The only personal indisposition of which he had to complain was
a slight attack of cholera morbus, which he believed he had caught
from one of the young men residing in the house, and which he
therefore characterised as " smittle."f One of the most relieving con-

* His pirtiality to this animal arose chiefly from the circumstance of its having
carried the Rev. David Stoner round the York Circuit, to whom he was warmly
attached, both as an eminent servant of God, and as having been born near his own
house. And yet, for this very attachment, Samuel might have stood rebuked by hla
own words. Being at Aberford fair one day, and walking with his friend Mr. Dawson
among the crowd, he was met by an acquaintance. " You look cast down," said
Samuel ; " what is the matter with you ?" " I have lost a fine horse," was the reply,
naming its value. " Why, bless you, man, you made a god of it and worshipped it. I
worshipped a fine ewe once, and God took her away from me." Such was Samuel's
consolation under loss, and such his occasional views of improper attachment.

+ A provincialism, denoting anything contagious. He was not a little delighted
with what he considered a triumph over the ignorance of some of the metropolitans,
who had consulted the English Dictionary for the term, he having told them in the
course of his sermon that sin was " smittle" — exhorting them to keep at the utmost
distfl.nce from it.

J 2

132 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

Biderations to his mind under it was,— and it shows his anxiety to be
useful, — that it had not been permitted to "take" him from his
" work." The sudden death of a female — the affliction of his daughter
and the daily funeral processions along the streets of the city — pro-
duced a quickening influence upon his soul, and furnished him with
seasonable preaching and conversational topics, he grounding on the
whole the necessity of a constant preparation for another state of being.

His peculiarities in manner and dialect attracted attention; and
among others ^viih whom he conversed, and who were induced to hear
him preach, were some persons of the Baptist persuasion. While a
few of these contested the doctrine of " entire sanctification" with him,
others of them admitted its necessity and attainment. One of the
latter addressed a letter to him on the subject, which he intended to
insert in his " Life." Treating on it in a letter to Martha, he ob-
served,— " I have preached, ever since I came to London, a full, free,
and present salvation ; and I will continue to preach it while I have
life and strength. Thousands have heard me. I have told them that
if the king were to make a decree, that the man preaching this doc-
trine should have his head taken off, I would at once go to the block,
proclaiming, as I went, with a loud voice, that Holiness belongcth
unto the Lord for ever, and would there die for it like a martyr."

Preaching in one of the chapels, on " Blessed are the pure in
heart, for they shall see God," a female, who had heard him, professed
to have received the blessing, after having sought it for the space of
seventeen years. A young man also bore the same testimony, in one
of the love-feasts. Some of these cases were entered in his home
epistolary correspondence, adding to the narrations — " You see what
a poor instrument the Lord can work with ! — either by a ram's horn,
or by the crowing of a cock. But he shall have the glory ; he will
not give it to another ; he has purchased it with his blood." These
intimations led Martha to look upon his state with a little jealousy;
and on furnishing him with a portion of ballast — a labour of love for
which she was well qualified and always ready — he replied to her,
"I am thankful for your advice; and I hope God will keep me in the
dust. I assure you, I have often to cry out, ' Lord, enlarge my heart,
and fill it.* I sometimes think I shall sink under the weight of love;
and if I should be called away in such a state, O how sweet it will be
to fall asleep in the arms of Jesus ! " While urging his hearers to
seek holiness, he broke out, on one occasion, somewhat in the following
strain : " If any of you had a sum of money left to you by a friend,
you would put in your claim and prove the will. Jesus Christ has
made his will : and his will is your sanctification. You may put in
your claim for the blessing by simple faith. The property belongs to
evej-y believer. Our Lord made a just will. He left to all his children

THl VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 133

share and share alike, — the youngest the same as the oldest. ' The
weakest believer that hangs upon him' may have it. It is faith that
lays claim to it. Faith says, 'It is my property.' Faith has two
hands. It takes hold of the blessing with one hand, and continues to
hold it fast by the other. Stretch out the hand of faith, then. Take
the property your dear Lord has purchased for you and for all
believers." This is truth in russet costume : and yet, homely though
it be, it is not only more dignified in its character, but the imagery
is better selected, and more consistently supported, than that w'hich
has been sometimes employed by doctors and dignitaries.*

What gave him peculiar pleasure, in reference to his favourite
theme of sanctification, was the circumstance of receiving an invita-
tion to take tea with two of the preachers, at the house of a lady who
had travelled the path of holiness upwards of half a century, and who
had entertained the Founder of Methodism. With this Christian
matron he compared notes, and remarked — " She has enjoyed pure
religion ever since Mr. Wesley's day ; and the best of all is, she
enjoys it now. It is natural for us to talk about that which we love.
Her experience is just the same as mine. I am glad when I find any
one that enjoys the blessing."

• In a sermon preached at court, the celehrated Dr. South remarks, in speaking of
the delights of a soul " clarified " by grace — " No man at the years and vigour of
thirty, is either fond of siiijar-plums or raiUes." Another observation is, " No man
would preserve the itrh on himself, only for the pleasure of scraiching."

Archhislwp Tillotson, in his thanksgiving sermon before the King and Queeu,
October 27th, 1692, on Jer. ix. 23, 24, speaking of His Majesty's preservation in the
field of battle, says — " I do not beUeve that, from tlie first use of great guns to that
lay, any mortal man ever had his shoidder go fcindii/ kit^sed by a eannoit bullet."

134 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

CHAPTER XL

i^ntinues in London — an epitome of a week's labour — Mrs. Wrathall's religioua eiijoy«
nients — Samuel meets witli one converted Jew, and attemiits tbo Christian
improvement of another — preaches out of doors — visits Michael Au^elo Taylor,
Esq. — further accounts of Mrs. Wrathall — Samuel's usefulness — his love of York-
shire— enjoys a ride into the country — goes into Kent — tent-preachin? — is reproved
for loud praying — his views of death — spiritualises a thuuder-storui — an African —
Mrs. Wrathall's death — Samuel visits Wiudsor — is rendered a blessing to the
people — returns to London — is called into Yorkshire to preach a funeral sermon.

In following Samuel during his residence in the metropolis, it will
furnish some variety, if special cognizance be taken of the more inci-
dental part of his history. His life was one of incident : every motion,
like scenic representation, told on the eye and the ear of the bystander,
unfolding his habitudes and feelings. Though no regular journal was
kept, the following may be considered as nearly in the order, with
two or three exceptions, in which the occurrence and conversations
took place.

July. Persons visiting the metropolis, like those who cross the
line for the first time, are obliged to conform to certain ceremonies,
if not of dipping, at least in dressing. Samuel's raiment was gene-
rally plain, both in cut and in quality ; and when not employed in the
smithy, extremely clean. His coat was rarely permitted to alter its
fashion.* The change in London, however, was not so much in the
shape, as in the quali^^^y — from plain to superfine. " My son," said he
to ^Martha, " has ordered mc a suit of new clothes ; and your dear
Ann, whom you love, has bought me a new hat : I never had such a
hat on my head before." This was as much the result of kindness as
of necessity. Improved in his appearance, and requested to sup{>ly
a few places for the Rev. R. Rcece, with whose Plan he was presented
an his credential, during his engagements at the Conference, he
traversed the city, in something more than his ordinary chai'acter,
when at home at Micklcfield; and Martha's lectures on humility
were as necessary, occasionally, to suppress the stirrings of vanity in
some of its least ofTensivo forms, and without much of the conscious-

• He w.\a once, in the way of compliuieut, presented by a friend with a pair of
handsome new trousers ; but they were so ill adapted to his persou, habits, and othni
costume, that, when thus adorned, it looked Uko the lafit and prcseut century uuitcd
in the same man, or as tho\igli the half of tliem belonged to some one else rather than

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 136

ness of its presence — as they were kindly taken. His daughter, with
a child's fondness, wrote home in one of his letters, in the early part
of this month, — " My dear Mother, I will give you part of father's
weekly work. — He went to Southwark chapel on Monday morning at
five o'clock; from whence a young gentleman took him home to
breakfast, and kept him the whole of the day. He went to a fellow-
ship-meeting at night, and did not reach home till ten o'clock. On
Wednesday morning, he preached at the City Road at six o'clock, and
did not arrive here till tea-time. After tea, he went to pi'each at
Albion Street ; and to-day he has been at Chelsea Missionary Meeting.
It is not ten o'clock, and he has just arrived by coach. I assure you,
my dear father is in high glee. He tells us that he has had a good
time; and that, while he was speaking, the persons upon the platform
almost stamped it down.* They all shook hands with him, told him
they were obliged to him for his services, and paid his coach-fare.
\VTierever he goes, the people invite him back again. Tou see how
your husband is beloved."

Though Mrs. W. was pleased with the respect paid to her father, —
and it would have been strange if a little natural feeling had not
escaped, — she remained the same humble Christian as before; nor
was it vrith Samuel anything else but the mere ebullition of the
moment. Personal piety seemed to include everything besides, both
in himself and in others; and the progress of it was particularly
watched in his daughter. " I believe," said he, in writing of her to
his partner, " the Lord has sent me to London to learn gratitude
from the heart of your own flesh and blood. I never saw such a
happy creatui'C, or one more thankful in all my life. She has often
been made a blessing to my soul since I came hither ; and not only to
me, but to others, who came to see her in her affliction. She enjoys
perfect love — that which casts out all fear, and is fit either for living
or dying. I often think, if you were to see her in this happy state, it
would rejoice your heart. It is above aU riches to see a dear child of
ours so happy. Her dear husband outstrips all the men I ever saw
for afiection. She wants for nothing that the world can bestow ; and
your dear Ann waits upon her with tenderness. They are like a
three-fold cord, twisted together in love. We have nothing but
peace, joy, and love." These endearments, together with the kind-
ness of friends, and an extensive field of usefulness, led him further

* Samuel himself was in the habit of stamping, not only when others were speaking,
jut when he himself spoke. A singular scene took jjlace some time prior to this, and
nearer his own house. Addressing an audience at a public meeting, and being very
animated, his ponderous movements shook the whole pliitfui ai. Just at the momeut
of applying a subject, and saying — " Thus it was that the prophets went," the part
on which he stood gave way, and he instantly disappeared. Fortunately no injury
^as sustained.

136 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

to observe to Martha — " I find a noble body of Methodists in this
city, and I am very glad I am one of the members of this noble
family. If I had you with me, we would end our days here."

As nearly all classes of persons attached themselves to him in the
line in which he moved, so he found himself comfortable everywhere,
and hence spoke of having " many homes " — not being " able to
supply all " his friends with his society. Among others who clung
to him was a Jew ; but whether on account of his piety or singularity,
is unknown. A Jew, to Samuel, was a great phenomenon in society,
as he also was an extraordinary specimen of an adherent of the
Christian faith. Of this singular people he knew very Uttle, except
what he had collected from the Bible. Impressions of distance, both
as to time and place, with him were always connected with their
history ; and through his associating the holy city and the personal
manifestation of Christ among them in all his reflections, he could
scarcely have been more interested, if the fable of the wandering
Jew had been realised in his presence, or if a Hebrew had stolen out
of the sepulchre of his fathers at Jerusalem, and in his travels had
reached England, than he was in looking upon the person in question.
"I was planned," said he, "to preach in City Eoad vestry, and I got
into company with a converted Jew. He is a fine young man, and is as
clear in his experience as I am. I was delighted with his company. A
pious lady has sent him over to London to be instructed in Divine
things. His parents have turned him out of doors for becoming a
Christian ; but the Lord has taken him into his family. He is going
to college, and he asked me to go with him." The young man miist
either have been extremely ignorant of human character, or disposed
to amuse himself with the weaker part of Samuel's nature, in making
to him such a proposal. However, Samuel told him that he had been
at " Jesus Christ's College," where he had " taken up " his " degree."
He took breakfast and dinner with the young convert, and found a
difliculty in parting with him.

The interest this case excited, led him to think more than nsual
on the state of the Jews : and turning his attention to them, they
seemed to multiply in his sight as ho passed along the streets. This
gave rise to his expression, that the city appeared to bo filled "with
Jews, Turks, and Infidels." A genuine son of Abraham kept a
jeweller and silversmith's shop opposite to his daugliter's house. He
often looked at Samuel while passing his door, with the characteristic
keenness and expectation of a London Israelitish tradesman, hoping to
benefit by the ignorance of an inexperienced countryman. But his
Boul pcsscsscd superior attraction to Samuel than either his shop or
hJH window; and he was nut without hope that ho might be of service
to him. With unusual caution and deliberation, ho paced backwardu

TRB VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 137

and forwards before the old gentleman's door. Tho morning was
pleasant, in which he rejoiced. He had not been there long before
the object of his desire made his appearance. They exchanged looks,
when Samuel accosted him, " Bless the Lord ! here is a fine morning."
" It ish, it ish fery fine," repUed the Jew, immediately inq-uiring, as
he was old, and could not go into the city to seek it, " Vat pe te besht
news in te city ? " " The best news that I can hear," replied Samuel,
" is, that Jesus Christ is pardoning sinners and sanctifying believers."
" Poll, poh," rejoined the old man, turning up his face, "tuff and non-
shensh ! it ish all telusion."

Samuel was as iU prepared for this, as the Jew had been for what he
had advanced, and observed, with a view to produce instantaneous
conviction — as he concluded the testimony of his own experience
would be every way demonstrative to both Jew and Gentile, — " If it
be a delusion, it is a blessed delusion, for I am very happy in it. No,
no, Sir ; I know better. I have known, for the last forty years, that
Jesus Christ has power upon earth to forgive sins, and also to cleanse
from all unrighteousness." Alas, for Samuel, he ploughed only on
the rock ; the old man turned his back upon him in a rage, as though
Samuel had intended to insult him — entered his shop — and shut the
door in his face. Samuel looked after him with the disappointment
of a fowler, who, having discharged his piece, and expecting the game
to drop at a short distance, sees it on the wing, and untouched ; yet
expressed his gratitude in " not being numbered with unbelievers."

It is not a little amusing to find him in the chair of Lavater after
this, pronouncing his opinion with the precision of a physiognomist
" I can tell a Jew," said he, "as I pass him on the street; for hi?
countenance is gloomy and dark; not like that of the Christian,
which is cheerful and pleasant : and who has such a right to be
cheerful as the man that has Christ fonned in him the hope of
glory ? " *

On finding that he could make but little impression upon the Jew,

ne again turned to the Gentile. The " morning meetings," at five

and six o'clock, which were well attended, were among the most

salutary he enjoyed. On one occasion a foreigner, who had attended

• This was uot his first attempt at physioguomy : nor was he peculiar in his ^iews
OE the subject. He had read Isaiah, who, in speaking of certain characters, says —
" The show of their countenance doth witness against them." And he had a uotiou
that religion would improve the exterior as well as the interior of every human being.
These views escaped in prayer once, while he was imploring the blessing of God upon
a female, who acted in the capacity of cook in a family which he visited. Having
heard a little of the person in question, auJ having inferred from the peculiar curva-
ture and expression of the face, that she was not blessed with a redundancy of the
milder quaUties which grace the softer part of creation, he prayed for the subjugation
of every improper temper ; and as an inducement to her to seek after personal piety,
he said he was sure, " if her soul were converted to Qod, she would look five pounds
better than she did then."

138 THE VlLiAGE BLACKSMITH.

out of curiosity, was deeply affected, and three persons professed to
have received the blessing of purity. After the meetings, he wa.<^
often taken away to visit the sick, and pray with the penitent. One
of the persons who came before him he suspected to be affected with
worldly sorrow ; and this is the more remarkable, as he had more
charity than judgment in all cases of distress : another he was called
to visit — a stationer — was in deep despair. With a view to attract
persons who never attended a place of worship, he turned out into the
street, and stood up, accompanied by a local preacher, in a large
square. The householders threw open their windows to listen to
him, and the people continued to crowd around him, till the congrega-
tion might be denominated large. A person, in a state of intoxication,
threw a bunch of flowers at him, and was otherwise turbulent. Some
of the friends were abovit to remove him by violence, when Samuel
said, "Let him alone; he cannot hurt me, and I am sure I shall not
harm him." The man was subdued by the mildness of the address.
"The lion's mouth," said Samuel, "was stopped." While preaching,
he felt great tenderness of spirit. This was soon manifested by the
people; for, in the language of Creech, "The melted is the melting
heart." He exhorted — he beseeched — he reproved — he wept — the
people wept in concert with him — and having forgotten his pocket-
handkerchief, he borrowed one of a friend, to wipe away the tears
which rolled downi his face. The bunch of flowers was hailed by him
as a slight ex})ression of " persecution," in the honours pronounced
on which he " rejoiced."

Samuel was one who could more readily recollect a kindness than
an injury ; and, considering himself indebted to Michael Angclo
Taylor, Esq., for his licence, who then resided in London, and viewing
him withal, in his own words, as an " old neighbour," he went to
Whitehall to pay his respects to him. The statesman expressed him-
self as glad to see him, inquiring the occasion which hud brought
him to town. On being informed that it was the aflliction of his
daughter, Mr. T. signified his regret. Samuel, on the contrary, tdld
him he felt no sorrow on her account ; for she was " very happy, and
ready for her passage to glory." Mr. T. ordered the butler to give
him some refreshment; but the apjiarcnt kindness which prompted
this was of greater value to Samuel than the most costly viands.

Samuel remarked, towards the close of the month, as Mrs.
Wrathall's health still declined, "Our dear child will be safe landed
on Canaan's happy shore in a short time. I never saw such a patient
creature as slie is. She has not much ])ain, and will have nothing
to do but fall asleep. She began to cliange last week, and grows
weaker and weaker." Two or tliree days after, ho observed — " I have
just been giving youi- dear child her breakfast. If you only saw L«f

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 139

in her aifliction- -so thankful, so happy — I am sure it would rejoice
your heart. If she is spared a little longer, it will be for the glory of
God, and the good of those that come to see her. She has many
friends : I can scarcely go anywhere but I find them. Your dear Ann
is a miracle. She is not afraid of going out to hear me preach. I
hope both you and me, and all our childi'en, and even our children's
children, to the third and fourth generation, will meet at God's right
hand." On the 20tli of the month, he added, " Your dear child is
very happy;" then proceeding to generalise, "we are all peacs; Ann
and I have been taking some refreshment together, and have just
been at the family altar. 1 hope you do not forget this duty; and be
sure you do not jjt>ic/i yourself for comforts. I often think of you
when I sit down to a good dinner, and wish I had you, my dear, to
share it with me. But if we do not sit down at one table now, we
shall eat at our Father's table together hereafter. My lot is cast in
a pleasant place. When I want to retire to read or write, I have a
room to go into. I would not swap (exchange) place with the best
nobleman in this city."

August. This month presents but little variety, besides the
regular work of preaching, praying, and visiting, with the exception
of a quickening influence in one of the prayer-meetings, which was
held after he had preached, in which a person of the Roman Catholic
persuasion was awakened. Having to go a considerable distance to
his lodgings, he departed from the place at ten o'clock at night,
leaving, as he expressed himself, " the friends pleading for the slain."
Before the close of the month, his Yorkshire phrases, his zeal, and the
influence attending his homelj addresses, rendered him rather con-
spicuous among his fellows. To this he was not altogether blind,
and remarked, in the confidence of a man to his wife, '' I am well
known in London. The more work I do, the more I have to do ; and
when it will all be done, I cannot tell. I have great pleasure in it.
The Lord is saving souls." Then, as before, he lu'ged Martha not to
pinch herself; "for," he added, " I am sure we have as much as will
keep you ; and as for me, my Master, whom I love and serve, will
supply all my needs out of his abundant fulness. The earth is his
own property." This was not the language that rises out of satiety
from present indulgence, on findiug himself seated at the table of his
son-in-law, but of confidence in God, who blesses the labourer with
his hire, because worthy of it. He had no anxiety on his own account ;
it only found a place in his bosom for others ; and towards these it
was generally exercised rather in reference to the present exigencies
of any pai'ticular case, than with a view to the future destiny of the
individual concerned.

His faith in the goodness, power, and veracity of God, would never

140 TUB VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

Buffer him to bring the trials of to-morrow on those of to-day ; or by
afflictive forebodings to go out and meet his exercises half-way ; and
even "the evil" of " the day," which ought to be deemed " sufficient"
by all intelligent beings, was deprived of a great part of its weight
with Samuel, and thus rendered liglit and momentary, through the
grace by which he was supported, and the glorious hope of a blessed
immortality. Nothing but personal piety could have enabled him to
overcome parental feeling so far, as to give him the appearance of a
being not only all peace, but covered with sunshine at the gate of
heaven, and just on the point of entering, in the midst of a beloved
daughter's affliction. At the close of this month, as on the preceding
one, he had only to report increasing debility with regard to Mrs. W.
" Ann and I have been getting up your dear afflicted child. She is
very happy in soul, but very weak in body." He waked and watched
by her with a solicitude like that of a mother, rather than that of a
father, and never permitted his piiblic labours to trench upon the
attentions demanded by natural affection.

September. Though happy among the persons with whom he
associated, his joys were considerably increased on any arrival from
Yorkshire, whether it turned up in the shape of a human face, a
letter, or a message. Among several persons noticed, no one was
viewed with more unminglcd pleasure than W. Scarth, Esq., of
Leeds, who invited him to take tea at his lodgings — the house of
the Avidow of the late Rev. C. Atmore — " Where," said Samuel, " we
spent a little bit of comfortable time together." Mr. S. told him
that his presence and labours would be required at home : this, with
an oral communication from Eatcliffe Close, to pay another visit
to that place, where he had been so useful among the Sunday School
children, operated upon him like the promise of a week's work to a
poor man, who is overjoyed with the tidings of a second job before
the first is finished. His only wish for life arose from his desire to
be useful.

Next to a friend from Yorkshire, was the delight he experienced in
again beholding the face of God's creation, in a view of the country.
His C3C had been accustomed to rove over the beauty, the ivildncss,
and tlie freshness of open rural scenery; and tlioiigh he knew not the
sentiment of the writer who said, "God made the country, but man
made tlie town," yet he felt like a person who saw more of his
Maker's hand in the trees and in the shrubs, tlian in the range of
buildings — like one whose eye had not only a wider range, but whoso
lungs had something like fair play, and with whom respiration seemed
to be aided. Mr. Knight drove iiiin fifteen miles into the country in
a gig. Tie felt like a child let loose from the nursery. Absence had
given additional richness to the verdure. " I was glad." said he, " to

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 141

see the fields look so green. The Lord is sending us a Michaelmas
summer, and a fine seed-time. He is making up for the loss of last
year. Bless his dear name ! he is very kind to us. After taking the
rod to us, he then shows us his salvation. He never does wrong : he
does all in love : and it is well done. What we know not now, we
shall know hereafter."

He was favoured with a still further treat, in being taken into
Kent, by Mr. Cooper, who married his niece, and wdth whom he
remained a fortnight. On his return he made a collection for a
Sunday School ; and such was the concourse of people, that he was
obliged to preach out of doors. The collection amounted to about
double the sum of what it had been on any former occasion.

Mr. Pocock's plan of tent-preacMng, which had reached the metro-
polis, presented a novel scene to Samuel ; and in one of these he held
forth the Word of life. But in no meeting, of a purely religious
character, did he appear so much in his element as in those he held
after preaching, to which there has been such repeated reference. In
one of these, in the course of this month, after he had made a collection
for a chapel which had undergone some repairs, he gave the people
an account of a plan adopted in the York Circuit, during the revival.
He told them that the friends " set three berths" (benches), one for
penitents — another for backsliders — and a third for those that wanted
full salvation ; and that while they sung a verse or two of a hymn,
the people filled the benJcs.* They then went up to prayer, and the
Lord poured out his Spirit upon them. Whether this systematic plan
was adopted by the metropolitans on the occasion, is not stated ; but
it is affirmed, that ten persons were blessed — some with pardon, and
others with sanctification of the Spirit. He closed the month by
attending one of the Quarterly Meetings, and by preaching in St.
George's Chapel.

His excellent daughter continued to approach nearer and nearer
the grand boundary line which divides time and eternity — her fairest
prospects on the one side, and her infirmities only on the other.

October. While some of the preachers and friends were charac-
terised by Samuel as " flames of fire," there were others who were
'.ess favourable to his mode of proceeding, and of course required

• This appears to be from the Saxon henc, a long seat; as banc, in the same
langTiage, signifies a long heap of eai-th. It is hence that our bench is derived.
Banlcan, a bank ; Baingk, Beinse, and Benk, a bench ; Bank and Benc?i being one and
the same word, signifying a long sitting-place, as in the case of the British judges,
who sat for ages upon banks instead of benches. It is the same with the Irish Bale,
which answers to the Bale of the Welsh, and denotes a balk of land, as also does a
bench. Banquet is supposed to be a slip of the same root. Banquegcal is to feast ;
and Banuez, Banket is a feast; the idea being taken from sitting to a table; as Cini»
is a feast, ami Ciniau, Ciiynos a table, from sitting on banks or benches to it; oa
Ban<ivstte, in French, is at present, a small bank in fortification.

142 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

more zeal. But having nnlj' one straightforward course, admonitory
interpositions wei-e generally fruitless. A female having been con-
vinced of sin while he was preaching on Rom. viii. 13, was in deep
distress in one of the prayer-meetings. He knelt down to pray for
her ; and experiencing unusual freedom, he elevated his voice to an
extraordinary height. " One of the London preachers," said he,
" came to me, and pulled me by the coat. I asked him what was the
matter : and he told me not to pray so loud, as another person was in
distress in the chapel, and it produced confusion. But I took no
notice of the discharge ; I prayed on till the Lord set her soul at liberty;
and she declared it in the great congregation." He added, " It ia
better to obey God than man." He had never learned to sound a
retreat : " Onward " was his motto in everything that concerned the
soul; and this he was constantly urging upon others, as well as
dwelling upon himself. To a fi'iend, he observed, about the same
time, " I hope, my dear brother, you are still going on in the good old
way, which leads to glory and to God. If we get religion to live with,
we shall have religion to die with." Then, with no bad attempt at
smartness, he asked, " Die, did I say? No, that is a wrong term for
a Christian. It is religion to fall asleep with. "\Ylien David finished
his work, he slept with his fathers. The prophets also fell asleep :
and St. Paul asks, ' 0 death, where is thy sting ? Thanks be to God,
who giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ.' " It way
the consciousness of preparation which he can-ied about with him.
that deprived death of its terrors, and kept alive the notion of sleep —
of a person just closing his eyes, and going to rest after the toils of
the day.

It was as natural for him to converse on religious subject.=i, as it
was to breathe ; and almost as impossible for him to see or hear anj--
thing without connecting religion with it. After a tremendous night
of thunder, lightning, wind, and rain, on the 10th of the month, ho
remarked, " We have been spared from the threatening hand of a
kind Protector : but I am afraid we shall hear of many lives being lost
on the wide ocean. The rain has washed the tiles and the streets clean.
Tlie tiles look as if they were new. ^Fy prayer is, that God would
send a thunder-storm into every sinner's heart, and the lightning of
his Spirit to enlighten every sinner's conscience; and that he would,
by the precious blood of Christ, cleanse the hearts of all true believers,
as he has washed the tiles and the streets of this city."

He had laboured and prayed much for the heathen; and though
divided from them by seas and continents, a circumstance occurred,
which appeared to bring them to his own door, in the person of
a black, who sat as his hearer in one of the chapels. His hue
awakened all Samuel'r sympathies for the negroes of the West India

Tire VILLAGE BI-ACKSMTTH. 143

Islands. So much was his mind absorbed in the subject, that the
whole congi-egation of whites appeared to be concentrated in thia
swarthy son of Ham. He told them that God was no respecter of
persons, — that persons of all nations, working righteousness, were
accepted of him, — and that colour, size, and age, made no difference
to him, provided they came as penitents to his footstool. Such were
the effects produced by his pointed and personal appeals, that the
black got up in the midst of the people, and attested the goodness of
God personally to himself, in the forgiveness of all his sins. Samuel
went home with him — he being in comfortable circumstances — and
took supper with him ; and was pleased to find, that " he had as clear
a witness of the Spirit as a white man." The last expression would
seem to indicate as though he had been infected with the slave-
holder's cant, that negroes are an inferior race of beings, and in-
capable of improvement ; and for the weakest and most innocent mind
to receive a taint from the opinion, in its progress through European
society, only shows the necessity of mooting it, by opposing to it the
stubbornness of fact, in instances of religious and intellectual improve-
ment.

Mr. Wrathall received a letter from Grassington, about this time,
requesting his presence, on account of the indisposition of his uncle,
to whom he was left executor, and who was in fact at the point of
death. Mrs. Wrathall's increasing debility rendered the prospect of
absence the more painful. However, the certainty of her father's
society was an agreeable compensation for the temporary loss pro-
posed. In writing home on the 11th, he remarked, "Your dear
daughter, Eosamond, is much better this morning than she has been
for some days past. We thought, a few days ago, she was about to
enter her eternal rest. But the Lord does all things well. She has
been made a blessing to many. She expressed her thankfulness for
her food this morning, and gave out that verse, 'We thank thee,
Ijord, for this our food.' I believe I shall have cause to bless God to
all eternity for her." Her bodily improvement, alas ! was but of
short duration; for she died on the 17th of the month, a blessed
witness of the power of God to save to the uttermost.

Samuel continued in London after the decease of his daughter,
till January, 1828, in the early part of which month he paid a visit to
Windsor, partly out of respect to it as the seat of royalty, and partly
in compliance with an invitation from some friends, and was escorted
thither by a person from town. A pious soldier, of the name of
William Emmott, a corporal in the Eoyal Horse Guards, was the only
person with whom he had any acquaintance. He preached on the
evening of his an-ival, and held a prayer-meeting afterwards. So
much were the people pleased and profited, that they requested him

114 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

to remain with tLem a few days. Mr. Pollard, tlie superintendent,
wrote to Miss Hick, his daughter, who was at Mr.Wrathall's, January
7ch, stating his intention. Part of the note is — "Your father is
going to stay with us at Windsor over the next Sabbath. He is very
happy and useful." Samuel added on the same page, "My dear
child, this morning I am in my glory. The Lord poured out his
Spirit at the prayer-meeting last night. Four souls obtained liberty ;
and many were blessed. If spared till to-morrow, I am hown to see
Dr. Clarke. He has sent me word, that he will give me a week's
board. There is a great work to do in this place ; and you know I
love the Lord with all my heart. I have been at the King's stables,
where my brother-in-law conversed with His Majesty. Our brother
Jeb is with me, who will return to-day. God bless you all. You
must take me in when I come."

He was shown over the grounds and castle of "Windsor. The road
loading up to the palace, the flight of steps, the room, the paintings,
and the extensive prospect from the summit — presenting, he observed,
" a view of twelve counties " — were what appeared to have fixed
attention, and left his mind, like a " chamber of imagery," imbued
with their various forms. And yet, much as he was impressed with
these, they did not excite the emotions of which he was the subject,
when he could connect anything celestial or devotional with what
passed in review. Thus, the representation of the late lamented
Princess Charlotte, with her infant, ascending to heaven, fired his
fancy, and melted his heart. "It was," in his own language, "as
naturahle (natural) as life." But fascinated as he was with this, a
stronger feeling was pi'oduccd — only not so permanent — by the sight
of the old cushion — to which allusion has been already made — upon
which His Majesty George III. knelt, during his morning devotions.
" The cushion," said Samuel, " was worn through with constant
kneeling. I kneeled me down upon it, and prayed that the time
might come when all His Majesty's subjects would wear out their
cushions with praying." This " divine breathing," though oddly
expressed, was sincere ; and few, perhaps, have been the persona
that have approached his prayerful example on visiting the royal
domain.

The following selections from a letter written just before be left
Windsor, will show the spirit in which he continued : — " Thursday
was spent to the glory of God. I preached at Chertscy, about two
miles from "Windsor, at night, and held a prayer-meeting. Many
were blessed. Friday was spent in singing and in jirayer. "Wo had
a prayer-meeting at night. Bless the Lord ! after a good night's rest.
I arose hapjiy in my soul. I had a good preparation for the second
Sabbath of the new year. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 145

all his benefits. I preached on the Sunday forenoon, and held a love-
feast in the afternoon. It was a precious time to my soul ; and the
friends told me they never had such a love-feast before. After
preaching at night, we had a great outpouring of the Spirit of God.
This is truly a -wicked place. There are many soldiers in it. Metho-
dism is very low ; but I hope the time will come when it shall
blossom as the rose. Most of the people in the town appear to be
going the church-way, blindfold, to hell. The King has his residence
at this place ; and the people, like the Eomans, must worship like
their King. But I pray that the churches may be supplied with
gospel-preachers ; and then they will be filled with gospel-hearers.
May the Lord hasten that happy day ! "

On his return to London, where it is probable his stay would have
been still protracted, he found a summons from Yorkshire, requesting
his presence, to discharge a debt of friendship. ^Irs. Pullein, of
Follifoot, had exacted a promise from him, that in the event of his
surviving her, he should preach her funeral sermon. On her demise,
the family wrote to Samuel. His friends told him it was not neces-
sary he should go then, — that he should go on purpose, — or even
take a journey at all of such a distance, at his age, and during such a
season, to preach a single sermon, particularly as there were preachers
in Yorkshii-e, who could supply his lack of service. But though they
knew the nature of a promise, they felt nothing of its responsibility
pressing upon their consciences, and could therefore satisfy them-
selves with what they were not personally called upon to discharge.
Samuel felt it in all its weight, and connected it with all the solemni-
ties of the occasion, and said, " When I meet Mrs. Pullein in the
morning of the resurrection, and she asks, ' Sammy, did not you
promise to preach my funeral sermon ? ' what shall I say P I have
promised, and must go." He obeyed the call. He took for his text,
Numbers xxiii. 10, " Let me die the death of the righteous ; " on
reading which, he closed the Bible, and said, " Now, if you will Uve
the life, you shall die the death of the righteous ; and much more
than this I cannot tell you, if I were to preach ever so long." Though
he had travelled upwards of two hundred miles to preach this occa-
sional sermon, he only spoke about ten minutes.

His warm and kindly feelings, and the utter intractability of his
nature to bend to the becoming gravities, whether real or assumed,
of funeral occasions, would sometimes disturb the serious aspect of a
whole company. As he knew no feelings, except those which he
ordinarily carried about with him, so he had but one face, one attitude,
one mode of expressing himself, whatever might be the event or the
circumstances in which persons might be placed. His sincerity, and
bis ignorance of all etiquette, would admit of nothing else. Thus.

146 TU£ VJXl^GE BLACKSMITH.

several years prior to this, he was invited to attend the funeral of
Mrs. W., of G.'uCortli, on the occasion of whose death, a sermon was
preached, and afterwards published, by the Eev. J. Wood. A cold
collation was provided for the friends on the day of interment, which,
as the company was large, was served up in a malt-kiln, where one
narty succeeded another, returning, when refrei.hcd, to a large room.
Samuel, with others, had made preparations for a funeral sermon.
His text, he told the friends, was given to him in sleep; on one occa-
sion, he had roused Martha, as he had done in icference to the di-eam
which sealed his call to the ministry, and to which she paid equal
attention, when the information was communicated. The text was,
"I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat." But honest Samuel,
not being favoured with a concordance, was unable to advert to the
book, the chapter, and the verse, wlicie it was to be found, and there-
fore had to institute an inquu-y among his friends for his further
satisfaction. He had a heart to receive the impression which truth
made upon it, and memory sufficient to retain the sentiment, and often
the form of expression; but, like many others, of mu.'h more reading,
the common-place book of his recollection could not in eveiy instance
carry the penman's title and his page. The mind being set at rest,
as it regarded the text, and the excellences of the deceased being the
subject of conversation, Samuel wept; and in the midst of his tears,
sent forth the smile of joy at the thought of another soul having
weathered the storm of life, and obtained firm footing on the opposite
shore, where the heaving surges are smoothed down to a " sea of
glass." He intimated his intention to preach a sermon on the occasion
of her death, in one of our chapels; and stated further, with his usual
artlessness — not awai'e that the disclosure would subject him to a
little concealed pleasantry — that he had penned his thoughts on tbe
subject, placing his hand to his pocket, with a still further intimaticn,
that he had the MS. with him. Some of the friends, who were less
the subjects of sorrow than the immediate relations of the deceased,
perceiving that he only required an invitation to bring the production
to light, and knowing the singular character which his thoughls
assumed in the dress in which they were generally arrayed, requested
him to read to the company what he had penned, — hoping withal
that some gems might turn up that would interest the hearers.

Sanuiel took hold of his pocket with one hiind, and the MS. with
the other, and drew it Ibrth, a good deal sullied, and cramped, aa
though it had been forged in the smithy, and lain in his pocket wi:h
other things since it had been written. He sprung from his chair —
proceeded across the room — placed his glasses in order — turned Iiia
shoulder to the window, and the MS. to the light— looked and looked
again— otca«io»'"'lv contracling his eyes, and adding to the udjiiBt-

»H« VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 1A7

nient of his spectacles. Not succeeding to his wishes, he turned the
other shoulder to the window — permitting as much of the light to
fall upon the paper as possible, — hemming and stammering, and
shuffling — tUl at length in a fit of impatience and disappointment,
and without being able to work his way through a single sentence, he
threw it down on the table before the Rev. J. Wood, saying, " There,
Mr. Wood, — I cannot read it — take it, and try what you can do with
it," smacking his glasses into their case, hke a sword into its scab-
bard, and stalking across the room again to his seat. When it is
remarked that this was too much for the gravity of Mr. Wood, the
reader is left to conjecture the effect produced upon others. Yet,
with all this, Samuel was left the subject of weeping, smiling, unsua-
^)ecting simplicity.

148 THE VILLAGK BLACKSMITH.

CHAPTER XII.

Takes a tour through different parts of Yorkshire — low state of the work of God at
Warter — ^ves the preference to vocal music in a place of worship — goes into the
Snaith Circuit— Goole — meets with old friends — is affected with early recoUectious,
on visiting the scene of Martha's juvenile days — prayer-meetings — retuniB to
Yorkshire — labours in the Easing^vold Circuit — is again cheered with the sight of
old associates — his increasing popularity — meets with a serious accident by a fall
from his horse — his conduct when under medical attendance — is visited by Mr.
Dawson — his partial restoration to health — visits the West Eiding — proceeds
into Lancashire — is attacked by an infidel while preaching out of doors at Bolton
— is summoned by letter to Grassington — becomes seriously indisposed — witnesses
the happy death of his niece — returns home — declines rapidly in health — attends
to some funeral arrangements — his state of mind — his triumphant death — the
general sympathy excited on the occasion — conclusion.

On his return home, he continued with the same diligence which
had previoiisly distinguished his conduct, to benefit his fellow-
creatures. The great religious institutions of the nineteenth cen-
tury, were styled by him " the seeds of the Millennium ; " and every
act of his was viewed as an effort to force the shoots ; a tree this,
which will throw its mighty shadow over every nation under heaven.

The year (1828) was begun in the spirit in which its predecessor
had closed — a spirit purely devotional. Having been at home a short
time, he again left it, and went into the Pocklington Circuit, tarrying
a night on the road, at the house of his old friend, Mr. Peart.

One of the travelling preachers being indisposed, he was requested
to supply a few places. At Warter, in the neighbourhood of the
Wolds, which was the place where he opened his commission, he
witnessed but little of that fermented feeling which he had seen
manifested in the neighbourhood of York. He found preaching
here, he remarked, "as hard work as labouring at the anvil." The
Word seemed to rebound upon himself, and so to " return void."
"There was as great a difference in the climate, for religion," con-
tinued he, between the district he had left, and that upon which bo
had entered, "as between summer and winter." But he "claimed,"
as he stated, his " privilege of having a prayer-meeting after preach-
ing," and requested those who were desirous of pardon, " to come up
to the bcnk." Tlic wife of a blacksmith was one who acceded to the
proposal ; and having been some time under religious awakenings,
was prepared for the conaolatious oi the Spirit of God, wkich nht

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 149

obtained through the exercise of faith in Christ. At Pocklington,
Elvington, and Sutton-upon-Derwent, he was exceedingly happy in
his woi-k.

From, hence he proceeded to Selby, and attended the March
Quarterly Meeting. Here he was hospitably entertained by Mr. B.
Clarkson. His congregations were large, and the blessing of God
attended his labours. He was especially delighted with the singing.
"I never heard such singing before; " he remarked, " they have no
iTistruments — no fiddles — no organs. They sing with the spirit, and
with the understanding also. I thought when I heard them, if our
friends at Leeds would only use their voices to praise the Lord, it
would not only be more pleasing to him, but they would be more
l)lessed in their souls ; for singing is w or shi piling God" This is the
common sense view of the subject ; and the last sentence falls with
the weight of a destructive hammer upon every instrument of music
in a place of Christian worship. He spoke of peace and prosperity
in the Selby Circuit, and hoped that the time would soon come when
in other places, " party zeal would be driven to its own hell."

The port of Goole, a place in the Snaith Circuit, had, in the space
of six. years, increased in its population from two hundred to one
thousand inhabitants. A Wesleyan Society had been established for
a number of years, and the place in which they worshipped latterly,
was a temporary erection, raised at the expense of the Aire and
Calder Canal Company, and in which a number of Sunday scholars
were taught. The place being small and uncomfortable, the friends
agreed to build a chapel, towards which Mr. Hamer, who was the first
to enter his name, subscribed £50. On the same day, and in the
course of a few hours, upwards of £100 was promised. One of the
Snaith friends, having heard of Samuel's success in different in-
stances, requested that he should be invited to aid them. He was
accordingly written to ; but the letter not reaching him immediately,
if at all, he did not proceed thither, till one of the circuit preachers
had personally expressed to him their wish.

He proceeded therefore, from Selby to Snaith, and its adjacencies.
In the earlier stage of his visit, April 13th, he observes — " I am now
at Goole. I have to preach every night, and on the Sabbath-day I
shall have to preach three times. You see, the Lord finds me work ;
and, as I love it, I have plenty of it. He gives me favour in the
sight of the people. The places for preaching are too small for them ;
they flock like doves to their windows." He was here visited by a
female, an old acquaintance, who once with her husband, walked in
the light of God's countenance, but had also, with him, retraced her
steps to the world. Through his preaching and conversation they
were again roused from the torpor of spirit which had seized them ;

150 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

and to render their return to the Church more secure, he entered
the name of the female in his memorandum-book, in order that he
might be able to give the superintendent of the circuit proper direc-
tions to find out such stray sheep. " The woman," said he, " sprang
from a good stock. Her grandmother, Ruth Naylor, was a good
mother, a good wife, and a good Christian. My creed is, that God
will save to the third and fourth generation. This has been the case
in my family, and in many a family ; yes, and he will bless to a
thousand generations."

While going from place to place, several other friendships were
revived. At Swinefleet he entered among the friends of Mr. Knight:
at another place he met with a ship captain, a religious character,
in whose vessel he had preached a sermon during his last visit to
London; and at a third place, out of the Snaith Circuit, he had
several interviews with his friend Mr. Thompson, of Armin. Amidst
many pleasing remembrances, however, there was one connected with
the early history of Martha, which was the occasion of much painful
feeling. "Yesterday," he observes, on writing home to her, "I
preached at Garthorp, in Marsland, near the place where you lived
when you were with J. H. The house you lived in is now pulled
down, and a new one built. The chapel which I preached in is built
over against it. The congregation was large, and I took tea with the
blacksmith. He knew you well; but he is now going off: he has
been in a dying state for the last twelve years. I assure you I
thought of your journey out of Lincolnshire. I could scarcely ever
get you out of my head. To think of your usage with that ungodly
man! — But he has gone to his reward. I thought of your journey
when you could not keep your shoes on your feet ; but the roads are
atoned and very good now. I wish you were here to see your oW
friends. I have heard you say that the blacksmith's wife was very
good to you, when you were ill. I saw the flag that parts the
counties ; but I will tell you more if I am spared to get home." In
addition to this, he had been infoimed of some misunderstanding
among some of the friends at Micklcfield, which had warped their
better feelings towards each other. On this he remarks — " I hope
you have got peace proclaimed, and all jarring buried. 1 will sinj the
funeral service over it : — ' Earth to earth, dust to dust, ashes to ashes.'
The sooner it is buried the better. Love caiuiot dwell where there is
prejudice and jiarty spirit. Give my love to all my neighbours and
friends; toll them I am happy, and in a good state of health."

Armin, which was one of Samuel's favourite places, in conse-
quence of Mr. Thompson granting him perfect liberty to follow the
bias of his own mind, often Ijccame the scene of strong religiou.s
excitement, and through that excitement of permanent benefit to

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 161

chose who were its subjects. Separate from domestic worship,
morning and evening, Samuel had his prayer-meetings with the
servants and neighbours. It was agreed one night, in the course of
one of his visits, between the servants and himself, that they should
liave a prayer-meeting early the next morning. Samuel was up, as
usual, by four o'clock. On descending from his chamber to the
kitchen, he found the windows closed, and no appearance of wakeful-
ness among the inmates of the house. He returned to his chamber,
and having prayed and sung, — his morning hynm, in all probability,
having reached the ears of the sleepers, — he was soon joined by the
group. But as they had not given him the meeting at the hour and
place appointed, he insisted on their stopjung with him in his room.
This was not very well relished by some of the servants, who knew
that Mrs. C, on a visit from London, slept in an adjoining chamber
But it was of no importance to SanuicJ, who very likely thought that
the good lady would be as profitably engaged with them as lying in
bed, at an hour when the birds were beginning to wake into song,
and heaven was alive to their melody. Samuel commenced the
devotional exercise in good earnest : they prayed — they sung — they
met in band ; and Mrs. C, — for sleep was vain, where there was only
a partition between the rooms, — was compelled to keep watch with
the party, and to render the noise at all supportable, had to join in
the devotion of the morning as she lay on her couch.

The evening was generally occupied in the same way. On one
occasion, when Mr. Thompson and Mr. P., one of the preachers, went
to Howden, to evening preaching, Samuel was left behind. On their
return, they heard an unusual noise in the house, and on opening the
door, they found the servants and neighbours encircling him like a
living wall of fire — every one breathing forth the spirit of devotion,
— Samuel's own lips touched with live coals from the altar, in all the
glory of a revival. IMr. P. was for dismissing them ; but Mr. Thomp-
son, who knew both Samuel's weaknesses and excellences, interposed
his authority, and requested him not to interfei'c, without, at the same
time, appearing to give the meeting his own decided sanction. One
man was so powerfully affected, that several persons were obliged to
hold him ; and an old man, eighty years of age, was confirmed in his
religious expei'ience and principles, which Samuel, not having had a
previous knowledge of him, mistook for conversion. The missionary
meeting succeeded this ; and Samuel being called upon to move or
second a resolution, took occasion to give a detailed account of the
principal circumstances of the meeting the night before. Having,
however, omitted the case of the old mnu, and being reminded of it
by Mr. Thompson, he suddenly turned round upon him, and in a loud
i»Qd sharp tone, with a good deal of fire in his eye, which showed tliAt

1??2 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

a portion of his own spirit was infused into it, and as though he
thought it " well to be angry " for the Lord, replied — " Heh, and you
were none so well pleased with it either," — exciting the smile of the
auditory. He supported what he deemed opposition, or indifference,
in a revival, with but an ill grace occasionally. Mr. P., who could
not endure the noise in the prayer-meeting, was obliged to take up
his cross in another way. He had Samuel for his bed-fellow one
night; and long before "tired nature" had recruited herself with
" balmy sleep," he had to struggle between slumber and song, at an
early hour in the morning, till his mate, whose instrument was
always in tune, had carolled a hymn, composed of about ten verses,
as he lay by his side.

His eccentricities in a prayer-meeting were not always to be
endured with gravity. While at Mr. Bell's, of Temple Hurst, a man
was praying very devoutly for the conversion of his wife. Samuel
knew that there were other pre-requisites besides prayer ; and, sup-
posing him to be a little defective in the milder qualities of the mind
at home, stopped him, and turning round, as he elevated himself,
said, " Set a trap for her, man, and take care to bait it with faith and
love," settling instantly down to his devotions as before, adding to
the person, whose voice had been interrupted for the moment,
" There, you may go on again."

Any improper feeling, as manifested on the platform, towards
Mr. Thompson, was quickly swallowed up in the finer flow of Divine
love, which pervaded his whole soul, and was let out on the most
insignificant portions of the unintelligent creatures of God. Speak-
ing to Mr. Thompson one day, on the subject of religious experience,
he said, " I had a field of wheat once ; the crows picked it, and
scarcely left a single grain : I felt something rise within me, and
said, ' I wish I had you all in a baiid ; ' " then, looking at his friend,
as if afraid of being suspected of indulging a disposition for cruelty,
incompatible with what he deemed a high state of grace, — ' But,
mind ye, I was not sanctified then."

While in this neighbourhood, he solicited subscriptions for the
proposed chapel at Goole — preached to every society in the circuit —
assisted in holding four missionary meetings — and was frequently
entertained by respectable families, who were not in membership
with the We.sleyan body. The latter pressed him to repeat his visits.

Samuel took a particular interest, a.s will have been perceived, in
the welfare of persons of his own trade ; and an instance of use-
fulness may here be recorded, as given by a blacksmith in a religious
assembly, when Samuel was remote from the sound of his voice.
" I thank God," said he, " for what he has done for my soul. I lived
long in open rebellion ngaiTist him — sinning in the face of light and

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 153

knowledge — and training up my cliildren for the devil My father,
who was pious, reproved me, but I regarded him not. He entered
my house once, while I was playing at cards with my children, and
spoke to me on its impropriety My passion rose, — I swore, — took
hold of him, and turned him to the door. Samuel Hick came the
next day to our place to preach; and going round to invite the
people, he came and pressed me to attend. He saw I was throng ;
but to accomplish his purpose, said, ' If you are fast, I will help
you ; ' nor would he leave me till I promised to attend preaching.
Accordingly I went, and the Lord met me. All my sins were placed
before me, and pressed me heavily. I cried aloud for mercy ; Samuel
came and prayed with me ; I prayed for myself; and it was not long
before the Lord blessed me with Christian liberty. He filled me
with peace and joy through believing, and has preserved me in his
ways to the present time."

He left Snaith and its neighbourhood about the end of April ;
and after paying one of his " angel visits " at home, visited the York,
Pocklington, and Tadcaster Circuits ; and three of the places in which
he was unusually favoured with the Divine blessing were, Hessay,
Acomb, and Moor-Monkton, at the latter of which, he observed,
" They sang like angels." When at Hessay, in the month of
November, having been from home some time, he found himself, as
usual, nearly drained of cash by his charities, one of the last of which
consisted in contributing towards the purchase of a pig, for a poor
woman, who had lost one by some accident or distemper. " She was
sorely distressed," said he; "for she had fed and brought it up,
and could not buy another without the help of her friends. She was
a good Christian ; and I gave her the most of what I had in my
pocket." But his purse was soon replenished. His son-in-law,
Mr. W., had occasion to be i-n the country ; and on finding that he
was in the neighbourhood of York, sought him, and found him in
conversation with a friend in the street. Laying his hand on his
shoulder, Samuel turned round, and was surprised to find the face of
a relation peering in his own. As Mr. W. was just passin.g through
the city by coach to London, he could only propose a few brief
questions, one of which was, " How does your pocket stand
affected ? " to which Samuel replied, " It is very low." Mr. W. knew
the generosity of his nature, and dipping deep into his own pocket,
gave him a handful of silver. Samuel considered this a providential
supply, saying, " When I was neai-ly done with my money, the Lord
sent my son to York, who gave me more. I want for neither meat,
money, nor clothes ; and my peace flows like a river." At this
period, he often preached once a day in the course of the week, and
two or three times on the Sabbath.

154 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

He had boon employed in the course of this year too, in soliciting
subscriptions for Ryder Chapel, a village near Cawood, forming part
of the Sclby Circuit. The summer, the autumn, and the beginning
of 1829, were spent in diiTcrent directions; and wherever he was fol-
lowed, the people bore a lively recollection of his visits. Traces of
him were invariably found in the conversation of the friends ; his
works and his walk left as distinct an impression on the mind, as the
human font to the eye, after a person has crossed the sand of the
sea-shore.

Samuel was in York in the latter end of March, 1820; and the
friends in Easingwold wishing him to pay them a visit, a farmer and
his good wife, both of whom had been brought to God some years
before through his instrumentality, when residing in the York
Circuit, were deputed to give him the meeting in the city, and to
convey him to the place. He arrived at Easingwold on the 4th of
April, and was entertained chiefly at the house of Mr. William and
Miss Mary Dixon. Being well accpiaintcd with Mrs. R., he deposited
with her tAvo pounds, saying that he was afraid of losing it ; adding,
with a smile, "I have cheated Matty out of this." Mr. R. had been
his banker in the Snaith Circuit, but having dealt the separate
portions out to him with parsimony, from an impression that he gave
indiscriminately, he thus made a change. His liberality, however,
was again put under arrest ; and when ho was prevented from giving
the whole away, he went among the more opulent, and begged that
he might be made their almoner. One instance of unnecessary
though not inconsiderate bounty, occurred while here. He stepped
into the house of a baibcr, and requested to be shaved. Inquiring
of the man whether he had any other means of supporting his familj-,
and being answered in the negative, Samuel put a shilling into his
hand. This produced a grateful fooling, and the man, in Samuel's
estimation, was prepared for anything that might follow. He talked
to him on the subject of religion, and then proposed prayer. The
different members of the family were speedily on their knees, and
the worshipping group were open to the inspection of the next
customer that might turn in for the same operation that had been
performed on the olfuMating priest. A thousand persons might be
found to part with their money in the same way, but a thousand
persons of the same piety might be found, who, in the same place,
and under the same circumstances, could not have brought them-
selvee to act thus, and might bo justified in such conduct, without
pronouncing a sentence of condemnation agiiiist Samuel.

Of tlie affection and attention of the Revs. Messrs. R. and G., he
spoke in grateful terms; ami besides prcaeliing, attended, in con-
nection with them, several missionary meetings. Descanting on a

Till; VILIAGI BLACKSMITH. 155

part of hia labours, he remarked in his own peculiar way, — " I
preached last night (April 2-tth) on the other side of Hambleton
Hills ; and the Lord, and Mr. R., and me, held a missionary
meeting ; " denoting that the Divine Being was signally present, in
the influence of his Spirit on the hearts of the people — and without
whose presence all missionary meetings are vain to the persons;
assembled — as though he had been rendered visible to the eye. " il
IS a mountainous country," continued he, " but very pleasant. The
people came from all quarters — from hill and dale : the chapel was
crowded, and we had a good time. I never saw friends more kind."
Here, too, as at Snaith, in the bosom of the mountains, he realised
the truth of the proverb of the wise man, — " As iron sharpeneth
iiron, so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend." Early
irecollections — such as extended to the days of childhood — were
irevived. One person, in particular, he noticed ; and his joy was full,
Ibccause of his meeting her on Christian ground. " I have found
.•some of my own country friends here ; one of them, a woman born
iat Aberford. Her maiden name was Barker ; she married Mr.
Wilkinson's steward, who is now dead. Her eldest son and
'daughters have died very happy ; and if I live till next week, I shall
have to preach her funeral sermon." He then spoke of the joy
he experienced : further stating his belief, that the Lord had " as
surely sent him into the circuit, as he sent Jonah to preach to the
Ninevites. He waters my soul with the dews of heaven."

Hawnley was another of the places which Samuel visited, where
he rendered himself amusingly popular, by waiting upon the clergy-
man of the parish, requesting him " to give them a speech at the
missionary meeting." The reverend gentleman declining, Samuel
tried him on another point.

Sam. " Will you please, then. Sir, to give us a pound for the
missions?"

Glerg. " That is too much, and I have no silver upon me ; but ii
you will give me silver for a note, I will give you half-a-crown."

Sam. " Nay, give the note. Sir; it is a noble cause."

Samuel's companion having a little more delicacy of feeling about
him than himself, perceiving that the pound was more than it was
prudent to urge, offered, in order to relieve the clergyman from his
importunity, to give him twenty shillings of silver. Samuel imme
dj.ately, in an altered tone, said,

■" Give the gentleman five shillings."

€lerg. " That will not do."

£am. " Ten, then. Sir."

■Clerrj. " I will give you half-a-cro\vn.''

Sam. "Not less than five shillings, if you please, Sir,"*

156 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

The full change was given, and an apology was offered for Samuel,
for whom it was fortunate an apologist was at hand. Samuel, on tho
other hand, dropped upon his knees in the room to improve the
occasion, and prayed devoutly and fervently for the Divine blessing
upon the clergyman. Whether as a rebuke, by way of intimating that
instruction was necessary, or as a token of respect — which at least
was singular — the reverend gentleman sent one of his written sermons
in the evening, accompanied with his regards, to Samuel's companion.

Without placing the least dependence upon works, he toiled as
though heaven were alone to be won by them. • If I had ten thousand
bodies and souls," said he, " they should all be spent in the service
of God." At Carlton, Sheriff-Hutton, and several other places, the
word of exhortation was made a blessing to the people. His useful-
ness and popularity appeared to advance with his age. Persons who
had heard of him, were prompted by curiosity to attend his public
addresses ; and those who had benefited by them, followed him from
place to place : so that with the curious, the profited, and the stated
hearers, the chapels were generally crowded. In addition to evening
preaching, travelling, and visiting the sick, he attended three mis-
sionary meetings in one week — moving about in the 79th year of
his age with the apparent vigour of youth, and with the fire of a
new convert. At one of those meetings, he met with the Eev. G.
Marsden, from Bolton, who pressed him to take another journey int()
Lancashire, which he resolved to perform in the course of the year,
should he be favoured with health and opportunity. He exulted,
too, in the prospect of meeting with his friend Mr. Dawson, at a
missionary meeting in the month of May. That month arrived: but
the 14th was a day to be remembered by Samuel and his friends. He
was on his way from Easingwold to Helmsley Black-Moor, to attend
a missionary meeting. When about three miles from Helmsley, his
horse took fright at a chaise, upon which some white bags were sus-
pended, enclosing some fighting cocks — wheeled round — and he fell
off. " Though no bones," says Mr. Dawson, " were eitlier broken or
dislocated, yet the shock was felt through his wliole frame. He,
nevertheless, attended the meeting; but soon found it necessary to
leave, when he was taken to the house of a friend." The scene which
followed would form a subject as suitable for the pencil of a Wilkie,
as for the pen of a divine. Bleeding being deemed necessary, a
medical man was sent for; but in conse(|uencc of absence, his place
was supplied by one of his pupils. On his appearance, Samuel threw
off his coat, and turned up his sleeve, as if about to enter on the
business of the smithy. Had the arm been composed of wood, or
belonged to some other person, he could not have manifested greater
self-possession, promptitude, and apjiarcnt want of feeling. Stretching

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 157

it out, — his hand meanwhile grasping the handle of a long brush,
and pointing to the vein, — " There, my lad," said he, " strike there;"
having the phleme and the quadruped present in the mind, rather
than the lancet and the human being. The youth, under the impres-
sion of fear, pricked the vein, but no blood appeared. " Try again,"
said Samuel. The experiment was again fruitlessly made. He
instantly turned up the sleeve of the other arm, as if going to
another job, or as if he intended to give additional strength to one
at which he had just failed, and determinately pointing to the spot,
said, "Try here, lad; strike here, and see if thou canst get anything."
This experiment, with the exception of a few drops, was as ineffectual
as those that preceded. The youth was overcome with fear, and
withdrew. Fortunately for Samuel, the surgeon himself came about
an hour afterwards, and bled him copiously, after which he was placed
in bed. While bleeding, he said, " Glory be to God, if I die, I'll get
the sooner to heaven." In the course of the same evening, while Mr.
Dawson was preaching, the vein was opened by some accident, when
Mrs. Bentley, who was at chapel, and at whose house he lodged, was
sent for, and through her kind attentions aid was procured, and the
arm again bandaged. Samuel thought his work was done, and said
to the friends around him, in a tone of holy triumph, " I am bown
home ; — glory be to God ! I am bown home." He expressed a wish
to see IVIr. Dawson again, who had called upon him before, and who
no sooner closed the service in the evening, than he made all possible
speed to his lodging. On entering the room, Samuel accosted him,
with a full flow of spirits and of tears, " I am bown home, barn .
Glory be to God, I am very happy ! I should have bled to death,
barn, but I happened to wahhen." He next proceeded, " I want my
will made, and you must make it." Mr. D., not deeming him so near
his end as he imagined, and adapting his language and imagery to
Samuel's thinlcings and knowledge of words, answered, " Well,
Sammy, if it is to be so, you are a brown sheller ;" referring by that,
as Samuel well knew, to the ripe fruit — brown, and ready to drop from
the tree, and which, when taken into the hand, falls out of the husk.
He was acquainted with Samuel's character, and beheld him as rijie
and ready for a blessed immortality. " Yes," replied Samuel, " I am
bown to glory." The will was drawn up according to the best
directions he was able to give ; but as Martha was both cashier ana
accomptant, he knew very Uttle of his own affairs, and of course
found it necessary afterwards to have it altered.

He met with his accident on Thursday, and on Saturday was so
far restored as to be able to return to Easingwold in a gig. Thf
friends at Easingwold knowing that the beginning of the week was
the period fixed for his return toMickleiield, proposed that he should

158 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

preach to them on the Sunday — accompanying tt«f pi-upusal' with u
hope that it would not seriously injnre him, whila- employing t^very
argument to accomplish their wishes, at the risk of hia- health and
life.* He received the proposition with his wontedl aHeerfnlness —
preached on the Sabbath evening — and proceeded td' York in a gig
on the Tuesday morning. Keducod as he was in his bodily strength,
such was the unconquerable nature of the spirit hie possessed, aided
by the prospects of a better world, that he appeared more like a
person who had just risen from a slight indisposition, than as having
walked a few paces back into life from the verge of the grave.

He complained of great internal pain, at first ; and although it
pleased the Lord to raise him again from his couch, and permit him
to engage in his usual labour of love, he was more susceptible of cold,
while his friends perceived an evident decay, both of memory and of
corporeal strength.

Having preached in his own neighbourhood a short time, ho lefC.
home for Lancashire in the early part of July. His route appears!
to have been the following : He remained two days at Swillingtoni

* This to say the least, was inconsiderate, being only the day after he had beoin
shaken a good deal by his removal from Helmsley ; and were it not for others than thm
friends at Easingwold— to whom the following remarks are not intended to apjil^
beyond the point of inconsideration just noticed — further observations would hawe
been witliheld. What between conscience on the part of the preachers, and thowjUllgf*-
ness on the part of the people ; a willingness to expend the utmost of their strei^b in
the cause of God in the one, and anxiety for them to be useful, founded on the raliie
of immortal souls, on the other, the men very often become martyrs in the work.
The people are especially culpable in urging a willing servant of God to work, in casL«
of great debility ; and instances have been kuo%vn, when, instead of preventing men
from running the most imminent danger of relai^se, or something worse, those very
men have been tortured in every possible way, by reasons why the pulpit should !«
suppbed ; — the tormentors themselves sitting like philosophers all the time, as if coolly
making experiments upon human nature, to see the utmost point to which it could go,
then returning with the languishing sufferer, administering their hope*, liko cordial--,
that after they have wrung from him the last mite of physical strength, he will be no
worse but improved — by thus throwing the fever into his system— with a night's sound
repose. Such conduct, if practised in civil life, would be viewed in no other light
than as the result of mere brute feeling. The only difference between an ungodly man
overworking his servants, like a set of West India slaves, and persons who are criminal
in the case in hand— and to no other can the subject be applied— is, that the former
aredricen, and the latter are dog jcd to it, through indiscreet zeal — incorrect notions of
duty — sympathy for the multitude, with a kind of callous feeling towards the imli-
ridual. Persons should be exceedingly careful not even to lay (ctiiiilatione in the way
of realoiw, l)ut nftlictcd men, to take too early the exercise of the pulpit. A man of
Qod has that within him which will not allow him to tcmain inactive longer than ii
necessary. In such cases, the people should stand Ixitwccn the couch and the pulpit,
and employ the check rather than the incentive. It is a hard case when a man is undot
the necessity of killing himself to prove that he is poorly ; and the worst is, that there
is neither any conscience made of the matter on the part of these or«r-trork#r.i, nor any
tribunal at which to try them for their conduct. They go free, though the man cf
God may lose his life. He is afraid of their uncandid reflections if he do not work,
though withoiit reasonable and serious reflection themselves. And to crown the
whole, as it i.-j done under the guise, so it is laid to the charge, of Christianity. A
man may perchance survive it ; but no thanks to the tnskmajitera for the pain inflicted, .
aor yet for the life almost mirai'iulously x»^*c^^<^-

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 159

Bridge, in consequence of the rain, and spoke of the kindness of Mr.
Gilgras. From thence he proceeded to Wakefield, where he preached,
and at which place he had often experienced the kindness of S. Stocks,
Esq., and other friends. Barnsley was his next place : prior to reach-
ing which he spent two days with Mr. Myers, who quaintly told him
he was not to think of " making a road over his house." "When he
arrived at Barnsley, the friends prevailed upon him to remain until
their missionary meeting. While in that neighbourhood, he preached
at Burton and Cudworth. This was no new ground of labour to
him; and at the latter place particularly, he was rendered extremely
serviceable to Mr. G., who afterwards became a useful local preacher,
but was in a state of mind verging towards despair, when met by
Samuel. They slept in the same room, and eveiy groan fetched up
from the soul of the one, was the signal for prayer to the other : nor
was it an ejaculation with Samuel, uttered in a state of repose upon
the pillow, which cost him nothing ; for he rose again and again, and
wrestled with God, like Jacob, both in the dark, and at day-break.
He gave himself no rest, till rest was found by him who sought it.
He had here an excellent coadjutor in the general work, in the Rev.
John Smith, whose Memoir has been pubUshed by the Rev. R. Treffry
— a man of a very differently constructed mind, but in no respect his
inferior for simplicity, zeal, and disinterestedness.

He remained some time also, at the house of John Thorneley, Esq.,
Dodworth Green, near Barnsley, and was the minister of mercy to a
number of poor families in the village of Dodworth. Here, as in
other places, in seasons of distrec<s, his funds — though often re-
plenished byMr.T. and others — were as often drained of the last mite.
Cases of distress multiplying upon him, as is usual with those who
take the trouble to seek after them, and having received supplies
from his own friends, he inquired, as he had done at Burnley on a
former occasion, whether there were not some opulent characters in
the neighbourhood, who might be willing to contribute of their abun-
dance towards the relief of the poor? He was told of one gentleman
by his friend, William Rhodes, but received only such hopes of suc-
cess as unbelief could afford. Faith, in Samuel, could perceive no
obstacles ; he proceeded, therefore, to Mr. C.'s residence, and found
him ; and knowing less of circumlocution than the legal gentleman
himself, entered directly upon the case. Mr. C. either to get rid of
him, or being touched in a way which was as rare to himself as it was
astonishing to others, took from his pocket a handful of silver, and
gave it, — feeling like a person, on Samuel's departure, who, in an
imguarded moment, had suffered himself to be imposed upon, and
wondering at his folly for having been so far overseen on the occa-
sion. But the truth is, there was so much of God, of justice, of

160 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

humanity, and of mercy, in all Samuel's applications, that they
carried with them the authority of a command, and became un-
accountably irresistible to the persons to whom they were made.

While he was at Dodworth Green, his respected friend, Edward
Brooke, Esq., of Hoyland Swaine, sent his servant and gig for him.
On seeing the conveyance, the tear started into his eye, and turning
to Mrs. Thomeley,* he falteringly observed, " He will kill me." The
zeal of Mr. B. was too much for Samuel's years ; and such an expres*
sion, from such a man, — one who counted not his life dear to him in
the cause of God, — must have been wrung from him in the agonising
reflection of past suffering. Of this, however, Mr. B. was not aware ;
and with his wonted kindness, furnished him with a new suit of
clothes. After labouring here a few weeks, he proceeded to Bolton,
where he was on the 10th of August ; and had it not been for this
Lancashire tour, he would have proceeded into Derbyshire, for which
Mr. Thorneley had made every preparation, in order that he might be
rendered beneficial to the men employed in working his coal mines.

Not content with preaching in the chapels, he took his stand in
the streets, and proclaimed the Saviour of sinners to the multitude.
Taylor and Carlile had just been there, and had engaged the attention
of a few of " the baser sort," who had become venders of their blas-
phemy. One of these attacked Samuel, while he was addressing the
people in the street ; and Samuel possessing greater confidence in
the truth of God, than ability to defend it, imprudently committed
himself, by telling the man, that if he would suffer him to proceed
without interruption to the close of the service, he would go into any
private house with him, or with any number of the same persuasion,
if there were a hundred of them, and he would take them one by one
and conquer them. But the man was desirous of public conquest ;
and in the lowest slang of the two infidel missionaries, so famous for
Btooping and raking up from the very depths of the common sewers
of infidelity, all the filth of which a depraved heart is capable of con-
ceiving, told Samuel that the Saviour he preached was a thief, — that
he could prove fi-om the Bible itself he stole an ass from one person,
and corn out of the field of another. Samuel immediately rebutted
the charge, by insisting, that, as the Creator of all things, the earth,
the corn, and the cattle upon a thousand hills were his ; that he only
laid claim to his own property. This was as good a reply as the low

* Tliis oxcollont lady, who know how to csHniat« iiMniieVs piety and labours, has
since liecn cullod to her eternal reward. The writer d( ) not proceed beyond his per-
sonal kuowlcdpc, when he staU-s that Mrs. T. w.os modest — retired— intollifreut—
liberal to the poor— hospitable without panvdo— a pei-fcct model of domestic order and
happiness, withoxit bustle — a fcn3at siifforor, but with the inrincible patience and forti-
tude of a reartyr — crowning the whole with the most exalted Christian spirit and
demeanour

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 161

ignorant attack merited. The man was prevented from making
further disturbance, and Samuel was dissuaded from giving hirn
the meeting. It was a heavy affliction, however, to his mind. He
returned repeatedly to the subject, and felt all his sensibilities in
operation for the honour of his Saviour. " I have heard of my dear
Lord," said he to some of the friends," in his conversation afterwards,
" being called a wine-bibber, a gluttonous man, and a friend of publi-
cans and sinners : but I never heard him called a thief and a robber
before, though crucified between two." Then he would sob and weep
over the charge, as though he wished to sympathise with his Divine
Master, while lying, as he supposed, under this odium.*

♦ Messrs. Taylor and Carlile were itinerating the kingdom at this time, and in the
true spirit of infidel philanthropy, after having charged the ministers of Christianity
with making a gain of godliness, issued their tickets and their circulars to try what
they themselves could accumulate in the way of business. The originals, which are in
the writer's possession, are curiosities. The ticket specifies, that " The Eev. Eobert
Taylor, B.A., will deliver an Oration this evening, July 6th, at half-past seven, at the
Manor Court Eoom, Brown Street, Manchester. Admission to the Boxes, 3s. — to the
Area of the Room, 2a." So much for the modest market price of infidel commodities to
monied characters : and, as there were no free seats, their system of benevolence did not,
of course, reach the case of the poor. If Christian ministers were to admit their
auditors into their places of public instruction, at 2s. and Sa. per head, some of them
would make an excellent concern of their " Orations."

Prior to the tickets being offered for sale, the different ministers of religion were
furnished with the circular referred to, of which the following is a copy : —

" The Eev. Eobert Taylor, B. A., of Carey Street, Lincoln's Inn, and Mr. Eichard
Carlile, of Fleet Street, London, preaent their compliments as infidel missionaries, to

, and most respectfvilly and earnestly invite discussion on the merits of the

Christian religion, which they argumentatively challenge, in confidence of their compe-
tency to prove, that such a person as Jesus Christ, alleged to have been of Nazareth,
never existed ; and that the Christian religion had no auch origin as has been pre-
tended ; neither is it in any way beneficial to mankind ; but that it is nothing more than
an emanation from the ancient pagan religion. The researches of the Eev. Eobert
Taylor on this subject are embodied in his newly published work, ' The Diegesis,' in
which may be found the routine of their argument. They also impugn the honesty of
a continued preaching, while discussion is challenged on the whole merits of the
Christian religion."

It is difBcult to command eulficient muscle tor gravity, in the pemsal of such a
document.

First — Eobert Taylor comes forward as the avowed enemy of Christianity ; and yet,
without even a vestige of that Christianity, continues to cling with the tenacity of life
to its honours, by still retaining the title of Reverend, which is one of the distinguishing
honours of its ministers, and which he himself would never have thought of assuming,
had it not been for his original connection with the church that conferred it, as is
evident from its being withheld from his compeer, Eichard Carlile, who is honoured
with the less dignified title of Master; thus contenming that by which he is still
anxious to be exalted ; — furnishing another exemplification of the fable of the proud
jackdaw, which, not being satisfied with the plumage with which nature had favoured
it, decorated itself with a few peacock's feathers ; slipping off with a pair of stilts —
a.s confideut of his own littleness — and mounting them on every convenient occasion.

SecoiuUfi — His title of B.A., still connected with his once Christian profession, is
t>iie to which no one will dispute his right, — showing his progress in learning, — having
leached the two first letters of the English alphabet, — halting, without being able to
a /rive at D. This may be deemed sheer puerility. It is; nor is anything else in-
tended: but the writer is led to it from a perusal of the " Cibtular," which speaks of

162 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

While at Bolton, he received a letter from Grassington. near
Skipton, stating that a niece of his was veiy ill — not likely to recover
— and wished to see him. He no sooner was informed of this, than
he took the coach for Skipton. The day was exceedingly wet ; and,
being on the outside of the coach, his clothes were drenched with
rain. He arrived a few days before his niece died, but received his
own death-stroke by the journey ; for he caught cold, which settled
upon his lungs, and from which he never fully recovered. In a letter
to his partner, dated September 10th, he remarked — " I have been
very ill since I came here. I was taken with a stoppage in my
breathing about midnight. If I had not got bled, I believe I should
not have been writing to you just now; but as soon as the doctor bled

the astoDishing " researches " of the Reverend gentleman. And to what do they
amount ? To the amazing vastness of— Nothing. For

Thirdly — He undertakes " to prove," and that, too, " argumtntatively," that " sucli
a person as Jesus Christ never existed ; " — that is, in plain language, to prove a nega-
tive. This is beating the air with a vengeance ; and, to say the least, he will certainly
have somethivg to do, in prosecuting the task of proving nothing.

To take the gentleman, however, on his own ground of nothingness, we ask — and
ask seriously — if Christianity has not been " any way beneficial to mankind," in what
solitary instance has infidelity been of service to the human species ? Robert Taylor
may be told of one " way," — and one will be as good as a thousand for the writer's pur-
pose— in which Christianity, in its effects upon the human heart, has benefited man by
man ; and in that " way " infidelity has something not only to do, but to learn ; it is in
the way of meect. This is one grand objection which every feeling heart must have
to infidelity, — not in its professions, for in these it is opulent, but in its cold-blooded
realities. As infidel missionaries can prove negatives, they cannot with any grace object
to their osserfion ; and there is one thing which may be averred — that infidelity

NEVER GAVE BIRTH TO A SINGLE BENEVOLENT INSTITUTION SINCE GOD MADE THE WORLD,

OB MAN FELL FROM HIS STEADFASTNESS. No ; they are CTinsfians alone who plume
the wings of genuine charity. Among infidels, with all their boasted benevolence,
the sacred form of Charity appears sickly and inactive, — the pulse at her heart beats
languidly, — no expression flashes from her eye,— and her pale lip attests that no seraph
has ever touched it with a live coal from off the altar. When, in pursuance of Mr.
Rose's Bill, authentic information was, for the first time in any country, laid before
the public, of the number of paupers, and of the amount of the poor-rates, it appears
that upwards of seven hundred thousand persons were enrolled in Benefit Societies. The
advantage of even these societies may be fairly inferred from their antiquity. They
are known to have existed in some of the ancient Greek republics ; traces of them art
found among our Anglo-Saxon ancestors ; and what is still more remarkable, insti-
tutions have been discovered of a similar purport in some of the South Sea Islands,
among a people still barbarous enough to delight in devouring the flesh of their
enemies. But are these institutions shoots from the stock of infidelity ? Or, if they
were, do they deserve the epithet benevolent attached to them ? By no means ; for
no one receives help from these, but the person who, by his subscriptions, first helps
them. It has been, therefore, and may still be affirmed- That Christianity al<m« is a
system of humanity, which leads to acts of fcindness and benotolcjice. This is one
"way" in which it has been useful to the indiircnt part of mankind ; and in this "way"
infidelity has been worse than a blank in God's creation.

N.B.— It would seem that Messrs. Taylor and Carlilo had set too high a value on
the article of Infidelity at first, and, like other wares, there has been a great reduction
in the price. Tlie latter gentleman, whom the writer went to hear, was lecturing in
Manchester, in the autumn of 1833, when the prices of admission stood at n'jrjiwvre and
threepence, the highest sum being paid for a seat near the person of the lecturer. This
Is a snd reduction in about the space of two years ; and augui-s fair not only for /r<«
but vacaikt seats, if not of the necessity of hirimj persons to occupy then.

mr. VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 163

me, I found instant relief. I was very happy, and found that God
was the God of my salvation." In speaking of his niece, he said —
" We are waiting for a convoy of angels, and are expecting them every
day, to carry her soul to the regions of eternal glory, where there is
day without night, pleasure without pain, and where eternity shall
seem as a day. She has obtained a title and a preparation for her
heavenly inheritance. She has oil in her vessel, and has on the
wedding garment. The Lord has taken a vast deal of pains with her,
but he has proved the conqueror. She can give up all ; and when
this is the case, we receive all. It takes a great deal of grace, to say,
' Thy will be done.' My son-in-law, Wrathall, wishes me to stop with
her till she finishes her course." Mr. Knight's family being ill, he is
obliged to return to London.

It was during one of his Lancashire journeys, that he was on the
outside of one of the stage-coaches, as on the occasion of his going to
Grassington, in one of the heaviest falls of rain to which he had ever
been exposed: "And aye, barn," said he to a friend, as though a
Lancashire shower had something peculiar in it — " aye, bam, when
it rains there, it does rain ! the hills look white with it, as it dashes
down the sides." His heart, as on other occasions, was in the right
place. A young woman sat next him, who was much annoyed, being
but iU prepared to resist the downward force of the torrent. He
looked at her; and while pitying her, he felt happy in his soul,
audibly blessing the Lord for all his mercies. Whenever his female
companion complained, he as quickly hitched in a pious sentiment,
exclaiming, on one occasion, " Bless the Lord ! it is not a shower of
fire and brimstone from heaven." This sentence took effect ; it was
like a nail fastened in a sure place ; she became thoughtful; and he
had the happiness to learn, that in consequence of his behaviour and
conversation, she became a steady convert to Christianity.

He preached twice during the Sabbath, while here, at Grassington
and Hebden. Having written to his daughter Ann in London, and
home to Martha, and receiving no answer, he was rather anxious.
" Whether," said he to the latter, "you do not think it worth your
while to write, or whether you are too busy, I cannot tell : but I are
sure if I had sent you word that you had a legacy of a hundre<?
pounds left you, I should have had a few Imes before now, to know
where and when you were to receive it." Yet he strove to excuse
her because of the harvest. " Many a time," continued he, " I have set
my face over the brown mountains towards Micklefield. I have seen
you in mind in the harv-est- field, cutting down the com. If I had
wings like a dove, I would fly to you and look at you. We have had
a great deal of rain here, almost every day, except last week. When
I saw the clouds burst against the mountains, I thought it would

1.2

V>A IHl VTLLAGE BLACKSMITH.

stop the rain from reaching you. If you have had as much rain as
us, you havt had a very wet harvest. But I hope you have got the
most of it in, and are shouting ' Harvest Home.' "

Samuel soon added, " Ten minutes past five, our niece departed
this life. She died in the Lord : and blessed are the dead which die
in the Lord. May you and I be found ready when the message
comes ! " Mr. W., who appears to have remained at Grassington
till the solemn event took place, — which seems to have been more
sudden than was expected, observed in the same letter, "Father will
be at home, if all is well, about Monday."

On his return home, he was only able," says Mr. Dawson, " to
^ireach a few times, and attend two missionary meetings, — one at
East Keswick, in the Tadcaster, and another at Garforth, in the Leeds
East Circuit. He now began to sink fast, though not confined to bed
till a short time before he died." About a month before he quitted
this transitory state, he said to his friends, — " I am going home ; "
and then informed them of some arrangements he had made for the
improvement of his death. In this he had the good of his fellow-
creatures in view ; and through the whole of them the same distinc-
ti^eness of character, the same simplicity, the same benevolence, the
same peculiarities which marked his previous life, were conspicuous :
some of them, to those who knew him not, bearing the stamp of
ostentation, yet perfectly remote from it. An increasingly sweet,
meek, hallowed feeling pervaded every word, look, and act, alike
expressive of the mellowing influences of the Holy Ghost upon his
soul ; thus checking the lighter feelings of the visitant, which might be
tempted to obtrude, — the visitant himself feeling that the being before
whom he stood had the consecrating hand of God upon him, — that
death was hovering over the ground wliich supported him, — and that,
through that same being, he was brought to the immediate confines
of an eternal world, ready to open and receive him at any moment of
time.

With the exception of a desire to have his will altered, he
appeared to have no other wish of importance to gratify; and even
in this he was preserved in "perfect peace." Mr. Dawson visited
him on the Wednesday before his death, and attended to some of his
last requests relative to his will and other affairs. Martha occupied
her accustomed chair when he entered the house, fast approaching
her eightieth year, with her glasses on, and a voice less feminine than
that of most of the softer sex. She received liim as the friend of
her husband, who was in an upper chamber ; and, although he was
so ill the night before that it was uncertain whether ho would see the
returaing day, he no sooner lioard the voice of A[r. D., than his spirit
revived within him, like that of old Jacob ; and gathering up his

THB VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 165

feet, he in effect said — " I will go and see him before I die." He was
quickly on the ground-floor, and took his chair in the comer by the
side of Martha. He told Mr. D. that he wished to have his will
altered. This was soon done, as his effects were not large, owing to
his charities, his gifts to his children, and the property of which he
had been deprived. He further observed, that he wished to be buried
at Aberford, — that his friend Simpson was to bake a sack of meal
into bread, — and that two cheeses were to be purchased. Mr. D.,
who was scarcely prepared for the two last items, wished to know the
reason of such preparation, when Samuel replied, " There will be a
thousand people at my funeral. As soon as I am gone, you must
advertise it in the Leeds papers, and my friends will all come."
Mr. D. very properly, but affectionately remonstrated with him,
suggesting to him the probable cost, the propriety of persons not
invited providing for themselves, and the serious effect it would have
upon the little he had to leave. " That's raight," responded Martha,
who heard what was said ; " persuade him off" it." Samuel, who still
retained his ancient spirit, exclaimed with the tear starting in his
eye, " Expense, ham ! I never was a miser while I lived, and I should
not like to die one." Being again pressed to dismiss the subject
from his mind, he said, " When the multitudes came to our Lord, he
could not think of them fainting by the way." He reminded Mr.
Dawson of the text (Isaiah xlviii. 18), which he had previously told
him to select, from which to improve the occasion of his death. On
Mr. D. leaving the house, Martha, being too infirm to accompany
him, sent her voice across the room, and said, in allusion to the
funeral sermon, just as he stood in the doorway, " See that de'nt set
him te heigh." This was in true character. She knew Mr. D.'s high
opinion of Samuel ; and although she deariy loved her husband, yet
her stern sense of justice, and her jealousy for the honour of God,
led ber to give what she deemed a timely caution. On a friend
employing in prayer the common expression, — " Make his bed in his
affliction ; " — " Yes," Tesponded Samuel with promptitude and
energy, " and shah it iveel, Lord ! "

His thoughts were now solely directed to his " departure," and he
gave directions to one of the persons that attended him, to take the
dimensions of a closet on the ground-floor, in order to ascertain
whether it was sufficiently large to admit the full length of his body
after his decease. This being done, he said, " As soon as I die, you
must take the body down and lay it out ; for you will not be able to
get the coflBn either down stairs, or out at the windows."

Two young men, members of the Pontefract Wesleyan Society,
watched with him during the last night of his life ; and from one of
these, Mr. James Foster, some very interesting particulars have been

166 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH,

communicated. " While I was in London," said he to them, " Dr. C.
encouraged me to preach full sanctification, and I will do so. It
shall be done : faith laughs at impossibilities, and cries — It shall bo
done. Sing, joys, sing ! " In compliance with this request, they
Bang the well-known doxology composed by Bishop Kenn, —

" Praise God, from whom all blessings flow."

On being asked whether he had any wish to be restored, so far as
to be able to preach again, he replied, "No ; " and then added, " If it
would glorify God, and do good to souls, I should be willing."

In the course of the night, he repeatedly exclaimed, " Glory,
glory, glory ! " Then, in an ecstasy, he broke out, — " I shall see him
for myself, and not another. The Lord has wrought a miracle for
me. He can — I know he can — I cannot dispute it. Christ in me the
hope of glory. I am like the miser ; the more I have, the more I
want." His ear, like his heart, seemed only tuned for heavenly
sounds. " Sing the hymn," said he,

" Who are these arrayed in white,
Brighter thau the noon-day sun.
Foremost of the sons of light,
NiMrest the eternal throne ?"

during the whole of Avhich, he continued to wave his hand ii
triumph. Then again, with untiring perseverance in the exercise of
praise, —

" My Jesus to know, and feel his blood flow,
"Tis life everlasting, 'tis heaven below."

The hymn being finished, he said, " Blessed Jesus ! this cheers
my spirits." It was said to him, " You will soon be among the dead,
Samuel." " No doubt about that," he replied ; " but I am ready to
be offered up — glory be to the Lamb ! Some of the friends in
London told me that I did not know how to pray; but I know better
than that, — glory, glory, glory ! Mercy of mercies ! Lord save me ! "
He was again asked, " What must we say to your friends, who
inquire after you ? " " Tell them, joy, that I have all packed up —
that I am still in the old ship, with my anchor cast within the
veil — and that my sails are up, filled with a heavenly breeze. In
a short time, I shall be launched into the heavenly ocean." A
mariner, and even some landsmen, might be able to discover a
confusion of metaphor here ; but the Christian can look through
all this, and can perceive a soul in readiness for a state of endless
felicity.

A heavenly smile played upon his countenance, and the joy he
experienced gave a vivacity to his eye which scarcely comporied with
the general debility' of his system. Prayer occupied some of the

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 167

Bhort intervals between hymns ; and such was the influence of God
upon every exercise, that it seemed as though other tones were heard
than those from mortal lips, and the room itself was " the gate of
heaven." One of the persons who attended him, observed, " I have
spent whole nights in reading and prayer : but the night spent by
the bed-side of Samuel Hick exceeded them all."

In the afternoon of the day on which he died, some of his friends
came from Sherburn to see him. Unable audibly to pray with them
himself, he requested them to pray, and with great feebleness gave
out the first verse of one of his favourite hymns : —

" I'll praise my Maker while I've breath ;
And when my voice is lost in death.

Praise shall employ my nobler powers."

To a neighbour, he observed with unusual solemnity, " I have as
much religion as will take me to heaven ; " then pausing a few
seconds — " but I have none for Matty ; " adding, with another pause,
" and none for the children." This is the key which unlocks the
secret of his real feelings, and shows that there was no thought of
funeral parade in what he had jDreviously observed,— nothing beyond
a wish that his remains might admonish the living on the subject of
mortality. He found that he had nothing of which to boast — no
more religion than was barely necessary — and wished to impress
upon those around, the impoi'tance of personal piety. Some of his
last words were — " Peace, joy, and love." As evening drew on, his
speech began to falter ; yet every sentence uttered by those around
appeared to be understood ; and when that hymn was sung —

" Ye virgin souls arise," &c.,

he entered into the spirit of it ; especially when the friends came to
the first line of the verse —

" The everlasting doors

Shall soon the saints rereivo,
Above yon angel powers.

In glorious joy to live ;
Far from a world of grief aiiu ».e.

With God eternally shut iu,"

he lifted his dying hand, and waved it round tiU it fell by his side ;
still feebly raising and turning round his forefinger, as the arm was
stretched on the bed, betokening his triumph over the " last enemy,"
and showing to those who were with him that he was — to use lan-
guage previously employed by him — going " full sail towards the
harbour," and had an entrance ministered to him " abundantly into
the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ."
Just at the moment that the vital spark, which had been some time

168 THE TILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

twinkling in its socket, was emitting its last ray, he opened his eyes,
and feebly articulated, " I am going ; get the sheets ready ; " and
died. This was about eleven o'clock on Monday night, Nov. 9th,
1829. in the 71st year of his age.*

On the day of interment, which was the succeeding Sabbath, such
was the sympathy excited in the neighbourhood, that the people for
some miles round, uninvited, attended the funeral. " Some hundreds,"
says Mr. Dawson, "went to Micklefield, which is about two miles
from Aberford. The funeral procession swelled as it proceeded ; and
when all met at Aberford, it was computed, on a moderate calcula-
tion, that no leijs than a thousand persons were assembled together."
This rendered Samuel's " thousand " almost prophetic, and in the
dark ages would have won for him the character of a seer. Without
any pretension to such gifts, the fact itself of such an extraordinary
concourse of people in a comparatively thinly-populated district,
affords an eminent instance of public opinion in favour of integrity,
usefulness, and unassuming worth. Mr. D. adds, " Had not the day
been rather wet, and the roads veiy dirty in consequence, it is
probable many more would have been there. The church was
crowded, and scores could not obtain admission. The worthy vicar
would not permit his curate to read the service, but went through it
himself, as a mark of the respect he bore to the deceased, and was
much pleased with the excellence of the singing. It was truly affect-
ing to see the crowd press to the grave, to take their last look of the
coffin that enclosed his mortal remains. They gazed awhile ; — they
turned aside, and wept, exclaiming, ' If ever there was a good man,
Sammy Hick was one.' " Mr. D. might have added, that the infirm
and aged, who were unable to follow the corpse, appeared in the
doorsteads of their houses, wiping away the tears as the pro-
cession passed; and that, pleased as the clergyman was with the
singing, the tear was seen glistening in his eye in the course of the
service.

His death was improved the Sabbath following, by Mr. Dawson,
who took the text which, as noticed, Samuel had selected. The
chapel was incapable of containing one half of the people that
assembled ; and though there had been a considerable fall of snow
in the course of the forenoon, the preacher and congregation were
under the necessity of worslupj)ing in the open air. Such was the
anxious solicitude of the pco])lc to pay respect to his memory, that
no less than nine additional funeral sermons were preached, in

• Tho ago here spocifled, Is that which wna on the hreastplaU of hla oojUn. His
brother, it moy be proper to notice, is of opinion that ho was two years older than
here stated. The writer, not having had an opportunity to oonault the Register, is
unable to decide between the dates.

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 169

different parts of the Tadcaster Circuit, besides others in those of
Selby and Pontefract ; and some of the simple-hearted were heard to
say, " I love heaven all the better, because of Sammy Hick being
there."

CONCLUSION OF THE MEMOIR.

1. In Samuel Hick we are presented with an additional exemplifi-
cation of the numerous facts which go to support an argument pur-
sued in a small, but interesting tract, entitled, " Great Effects from
Little Causes." It is there shown, that every man, woman, and
child, can do something — can do much ; that we cannot stir, without
touching some string that will vibrate after our heads are laid in the
dust ; that one word of pious counsel, uttered in the hearing of a
child, may produce an effect upon children's children, whose influence
may be felt on the other side of the globe, and may extend to eternity;
and that it is not improbable that eternity will disclose to us, how the
astonishing events of this age sprung at first from the closet of some
obscure saint, like Simeon and Hannah of old, " praying to God
alway, and waiting for the consolation of Israel." What has resulted
from the labours of Samuel Hick, emphatically one of the toeak
things of the world, is beyond the power of any one, except an
Infinite Intelligence, to calculate. He set many a human being in
motion for heaven, and accelerated the march of others.

2. The admirable economy of Methodism is unfolded, in accommo-
dating itself to the bestovrments of God to his creatures, whether he
confers upon the individual the lesser or the more exalted intellectual
endowments, — and the design of that God in holding every talent in
requisition for the general good of mankind. No disparagement is
intended to other Christian communities, by stating that the Esta-
blished Church, the Calvinists, the Baptists, the Society of Friends,
could not, agreeable to their economy, have found employment for
such a man as Samuel Hick. They would have been at a loss to
know what to do with him ; and would have been ashamed of him as
a preacher, however they might have borne with him as a Christian.
But Methodism, while she lays her hands upon the pounds, has never
disdained to stoop to the pence ; and it is in the pence — the pence, in
more senses than the metaphorical one intended — that she finds her
strength. " Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing bo
lost," will apply in a thousand cases, beside the one which called forth
the remark from the Son of God.

Postscript. — In the month of January, 1832, just as some of the
last sheets of the third edition of the Memoir of her departed hus-

170 TUB VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.

band were passing through the press, Martha was Bummoncd into
the presence of the Lord. With all the prudence and care which
characterised her proceedings, a proper occasion, as will have been
perceived, was aU that was necessary to draw out the truly noble and
independent spirit which she possessed, and of the credit of which she
has been deprived from the heedless exuberance of her husband's
givings. The profits of the first edition of this work were sacredly
set apart for her benefit ; and when Mr. Dawson presented her with
the first-fruits, he was accosted by her, with, — " I cannot think of
taking anything, till I know that Mr. Everett shall suffer no loss by
it ; " and it was not till she was satisfied on this point, that she could
be induced to accept the oflering. Her faculties were greatly im-
paired before she died ; but she left the world, if not with Samuel's
triumph, in Christian peace.

Another item may be added to the Postscript. Honest Sammy's
work of itinerancy did not terminate with his passage to " the house
a|)pointed for all living." While the writer's pen is on the paper,
October, 1851, the church at Aberford is being rebuilt and enlarged.
Previously to this, several of the graves were disturbed to make way
for the erection. Among others, the bones of Sammy and Martha
were dug up and carefully collected, by Mr. Atkinson, the organist of
Al)Ci-ford Church, who is a joiner by trade, and placed in a box pre-
pared for them ; after which they were deposited in their last resting-
place, not far from the original place of burial ; there, in all probability,
to remain undisturbed, till the morning of the resurrection. The
bones of Sammy had sufiered less by decay than those of his partner.
A piece of ribbon, undecayed, was bound round the head of the latter.
Such was the respect in which Sammy's memory was held by the
men in the workshop, that each was forward, if but to drive a nail, to
liave a shjire in the honour of making the last case for his remains.

THE

SUBSTANCE OF AN ADDRESS

DELIVERED BY THE LATE

SAMUEL HICKS,

IX THE WESLEYAN METHODIST CHAPEL,

MARKET WEIGHTON,

YORKSHIRE.

THE ADDEESS.

* Rejoice evermore — Tra/ij ivithout ceasing. In every thing give fhanJea
for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning yoii. Qusnc',
not the Spirit. Despise not prophesying s. Prove ill th/^mgs ; hold
fast that which is good. Abstain from all appearance of evil.
And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly ; and I pray God
your whole spirit, and soul, and body be preserved blameless unto
the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ." — 1 Thess. v. 16 — 23.

I HAVE to tell you that you have only an old blacksmith in the pulpit
to-night, and that you may look for very plain truths. When I first
began to preach, I was sadly afraid lest I should not be able to recol-
lect my text ; for I could neither read nor write. But now, blessed be
the Lord, I can do both. The Lord is a wonderful teacher ; and
when he undertakes any work, he can soon make a job of it. I cannot
preach a learned sermon ; but I can give you the word of God, just
as I have it before me.

" Rejoice Evermore." — The text says " evermore." What ! rejoice
in tribulation, in famine, and nakedness — when there is no money in
the pocket, and no meat in the cupboard ? Was there ever a man,
think you, that could do so ? 0 yes, my friends, I can find you a
man that did. What says Habakkuk ? " Although the fig-tree shall
not blossom, neitlier shall fruit be in the vine ; the labour of the olive
shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat ; the floch shall be cut off
from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls ; yet I will rejoice
in the Lord ; I ivill joy in the God of my salvation." Do you think I
cannot find another in the word of God ? 0 yes, I can. What says
Job, after all his losses and sufferings? " Naked came I out of my
mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave, and
the Lord hath taketh away :" and what then ? Why, " Blessed be the
name of the Lord." Who would have expected this ? Not the Infidel
I am sure. He would rather have thought that Job ought to have
said — " And cursed be the name of the Lord ! " And do you think,
friends, that we are going to be beat by these Old Testament saints —
those that live in the dark ages ? No, no. St. Paul speaks about
being "joyful in tribulation." In the text he says, "Rejoice ever-
more," — " and again I say rejoice." You may dc as you like, friends;

174 IHJ! ADDKHSS.

bat, for my part, I am determined to enjoy my privilege — to "rejoice
evermore" as here commanded.

" Pray ■without ceasing." — That is, live in the spirit of prayer :
and pray with your voice as often as you have opportunity. Yon
may pray when you are at your worTc, as well as when you are upo:i
your knees. Many a time have I prayed while shoeing a horse; and
I know that God has both heard and answered me. Were it not for
this inward prayer, how could we "pray without ceasing !"' St. Paul
did not mean that we were to leave our business, or our families, and
be always upon our knees. No, no. I have my business to mind,
and my family to provide for: and, glory be to God! while we
"provide things honest in the sight of all men," we may " work out"
our " salvation" by praying secretly to him. But this is not all. We
should have set times for prayer, both public and private : we should
pray with our families, and also in the liouse of God. It would be a
sad thing, if, in the day of judgment, any of our childi'en were to rise
up and say — " I never heard my parents pray : I may have heard
them curse and swear, and tell lies, but not pray." Other children
may say — " We have heard our parents pray ; for they said the Lord's
prayer, — the very first word of which was a lie in their mouths : they
knew that God was not their 'Father ;' they neither loved nor served
him; but were of their father the devil." 0, my friends, this outside,
this formal religion, will not do, — we must get it into our hearts ;
then our prayers will be acceptable to God, and useful to ourselves.

"In every thing give thanks." — What! for a bad debt, or a
broken leg? For parish pay? For a dinner of herbs? For a
thatched cottage ? Aye, praise God for all tilings. He knows what
is best for us. We have more than we deserve; and we should
neither take a bite of bread, nor a drink of water, without giving
thanks for them. If we were more thankful for our mercies, God
would give us more ; but we are by nature so very ungrateful, — either
murmuring against Providence, or expecting so much more than
common food and raiment that we need a positive command, before
we will give thanks for what God gives to us out of his free bounty.
You must give thanks, then ; "for ih is is the will of God in CJirist Jesua
concerning you." Now, the t<;i7i of GoD should be law to man; and
you hear, that it " is the will of God in Christ Jesus," that Christian
men should " rejoice evermore, — pray without ceasing, — and in every
thing give thanks." Another part of the text is —

" Quench not the Spirit." — You that have the Spirit of Gtod, see
that you do not quench it. Grace is a very tender plant, and may
easily be destroyed. You need not go to bed drunk to quench the
Spirit : it may be quenched by neglecting prayer — by giving your
minds to fooli.sh and trifling objects — by attending to earthly things

THE ADDRESS. 175

^by refusing to do good — by not praying with your families. The
master with whom I was apprenticed, never used family prayer. T
have often thought of it since ; and it was no wonder that he grew
up so wicked. When I got converted, it was as natural for me to
pray with my family, as it was to live. I should be like a fish out of
water without prayer. But we may also grieve or quench the Spirit
by refusing to do our diity, and by speaking rashly with our mouths.
I remember quenching the Spirit of God in this way once. A man
came into my shop, and asked me to do a job for him. Being afraid
he would never pay, I felt vexed that he should ask me, and hastily
told him that I would not do it. But I soon felt that I had done
wrong, and would have given almost anything to have had my words
back again. Besides, I thought the refusal might lose the man a
half day's work. But I was off my guard : the devil gained his point,
and pride hindered me from confessing my sin. Well, what was to
be done ? Satan had gotten me down ; but I was not to lie there and
give all up. No : I said to my wife — " I have lost my evidence of
the favour of God. I will go to Mr. Bramwell : he is a man of prayer,
and will help me to obtain it again." He did so, and I found it, —
glory be to God !

•' Despise not Prophesyings." — Do not turn your backs upon the
word of God ; for "faith cometh hy hearing, and hearing by the word
of God." I told you, that you have only an old blacksmith for your
preacher. But you must not think that, because of that, you have
no need to repent, and turn to God. What I say is true ; and if I
speak according to the will of God, you have as much right to attend
to what I say, as though the greatest preacher in the world were in
the pulpit. You may not think me a very wise preacher, but I am a
very safe one for you ; for if I preach at all, it must be the Gospel of
Jesus Christ. I know nothing else ; and if I were to lose my reUgion,
I should not offer to preach another semion. — But I must get on, or
I shall preach too long, — and long sermons do no good. In the first
age of Christianity, some were for Paul, some for Apollos, and some
for Cephas. Some said one thing, and some said another : but we
are to " try the spirits whether they are of God." And St. Paul says,

" Prove all things." — Do not be content with any religion that
comes to hand, but examine it, and see if it be right — according to
Scripture. Some folk boast about not changing their religion, and
— ^however they may live — reckon that they will not have to seek their
reUgion at last. Alas, for them ! They are called Christians on no
better grounds than Turks are called Mahomedans, — merely because
their fathers and their grandfathers were called so. When I first
became reUgious, I thought I would join the best people, and be right,
if possible. I knew what the Church was ; so I did not try it. 1 went

176 THE ADDRESS.

to a Catholic chapel, as the Catholics say they are the oldest ChristianB
in the world, and make great pretensions to be the true Church. But
1 did not understand their Latin prayers and monkish ceremonies,
and found I could get no good to my soul there. I then went to a
Quaker-meeting ; but there was never a word spoken ; and I wanted
to know how I might love and serve God. After that, I went to the
Baptists and the Calvinists ; but the Methodists suited me best.
Still I am not slavishly bound to any party ; and if I could find a
gainer, a better, or a cheaper way of getting to heaven, I would
willingly go that way. — "Holdfast that which is good." Having
found religion, don't be so ready to part with it : hold it fast. The
WOT Id, the flesh, and the devil will strive to get it from you; but be
determined sooner to part with your life, than make shipwreck of
faith and a good conscience.

" Abstain from all appearance of evil." — This is a capital direc-
tion. How many people get wrong through self-conceit and proud
confidence ! " 0," say they, " there is no harm in such a thing, and
such a thing : it is not clearly forbidden in Scripture." They are not
sure whether it is right or wrong; so they will even make the venture,
although the Scripture says, " He that douhteth is damned" — that is,
condemned in his conscience. If there be an "appearance of evil," do
not venture. When I go anywhere on business, I always strive to
get out of the way of wicked men. I am like a fish out of water
here again : I cannot live out of my element ; I am always afraid of
being corrupted by them. " Can a man take fire into his bosom, and
his clothes not be burnt ? " Now, I am coming to the very best part
of the subject : I am sure I can say something about sanctification ;
for I love it best.

" And the vert God of Peace sanctify you wholly, throughout
SPIRIT, soul, and body." — It seems to me that man is made up of
three parts, — a spirit, which is immortal, — a soul, which he has as an
animal, — and a body, which is the dwelling-place of the soul and spirit.
The body will soon die ; and of each it will soon be said, " Earth to
earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust." But when that part of us which
is taken from the earth, shall join again its " kindred dust," the soul
will then have passed into another state, and will either be " numbered
with the blest," or with the " damned cast out." Should it have been
made holy during the time it was united to the body, it will go to a
place of happiness. If unsanctificd, it will be driven to a jilaco of
misery. Some men have thought, that the terms, " spirit and soul"
in the text, refer to the powers and dispositions of the mind; but
whichever way it is, and whether you divide man into three parts or
thirty parts, St. Paul means to include them all in this entire sanctifi-
cation. We oi'e first to be sanctified, and then to be "preserved

THE ADDKESS. 177

blameless imto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ." The justification
of a sinner is a great work, whicli none but God can perform ; but to
sanctify that sinner wholly, is almost more than the mind can under-
stand. There are many who stagger at the doctrine of entire sanctifi-
cation, and cannot think that it refers to any state of grace upon
earth. But St. Paul prays that the Thessalonians may be thus
sanctified, and often speaks of it in his other Epistles. He declares
that " this is the will of God, even your sandification." I had doubts
about this doctrine once ; but I was convinced of the truth of it one
day while going through a wood. I saw two trees- which had been
felled. One of them had been cut away to make a ship, or a coffin, or
something else : but the stump was left in the ground, and young
trees were again growing out of the old one. Ah, thought I, this is
like a man who is justified. The stump of his evil nature remains,
and fresh evils spring up and trouble him. Well, sirs, I came to the
other tree. It was laid upon the ground, but the roots were stubbed
up, so that it could not grow again. I said to myself, this tree is
like a man in a sanctified state : the strings are cut which tied him
to the world ; and the earth is no longer about his roots ; " the world
is crucified" to him, and he "unto the xvorld." I got a fair view of
the doctrine of sanctification that day ; and it was the Lord himself
that made use of these two trees to teach me what I desired to know.
I sometimes compare religion to the best coin in the realm. First,
there is repentance : this may be compared to a seven-shilling piece ;
though there is but little of it, still it is good. Then comes pardon ;
this is like half a guinea. Next comes sanctification ; this is like a
guinea. Now, who would be content with seven shillings, or even
with half a guinea, when he might just as well have a whole guinea
by applying for it P

AVhat a blessed world this will be when the Christian church
zealously contends for the doctrine of Christian holiness ! Nearly
the whole of our natural disorders are owing to our sins. If people
were more religious, there would not be so much need of doctors j
and when the millennium comes, they may get a fresh trade ; for aa
there will then be no more sin in the world, so there will be no more
pain or sickness. This state of holiness is not withr^ut its trials. As
you go into it 07 faith, you may get out of it by unbeUef. You
must not think the battle is ended, or the work Vi done, when you
have stepped into this liberty of the gospel. No : you are to be
" Preserved Blameless." When persecution or tribulation arises,
whether from the devil or man, do not part with your sanctification.
It will abide a storm. Do not slip into a state which is more dangerous,
though not so much exposed ; and if you should lose your hold, strive
to get it again. It sometimes happens, in a gi'eat battle, that a par-

M

178 THB ADDBES8.

ticnlar house or bam is taken and retaken many times in a day. I
have lost this sanctification different times, but I always got it again.
1 have suffered a good deal for sanctification. The devil once got
liold of me thus : — A cunning man came into my shop one day, and
asked me what good I got by going to love-feasts and other meetings,
and whether it was not possible to live to God without so much
trouble and so much praying ? What he said, set me a reasoning. I
thought I could, and began to try ; but I soon lost my evidence of
sanctification, and as soon felt my loss. I was Uke old Pilgrim who
had lost his roll, and went back to find it.

There are people who believe that sin will never be destroyed but
by death ; and thus they make death a mightier conqueror than
Jesus Christ. The founders of our Church had other views ; for they
taught us to pray, that the " thoughts of our hearts may be cleansed
by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit." If the thoughts are cleansed,
we are sure that the words must be holy, and the life good ; for it is
out of the heart, as the fountain, that all evils flow. The language is
nothing but the bell, and the hands the index, to show what is within,
[f there was no clockwork in the inside, we should never know the
hour of the day. The promise of the Saviour is, that the Gospel
shall be preached as a witness among all nations, and that then the
end shall come. The end of what ? — the end of the world ? No, no ;
the wickedness of the wicked shall come to an end, and the earth
shall be filled with the glory of God. This doctrine I will preach to
the end of my life. If the king were to make a decree that if any
man dared to preach the doctrine of sanctification, he should have
his head cut off, I would willingly go and lay my head upon the
block, and would shout with my last breath — "May the very God of
peace sanctify you wholly, throughout body, sojil, and spirit, and jrre-
serve you blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ." Oh,
friends, get this sanctification of the heart, — pray to G^d for it
earnestly — believe that it is your privilege to enjoy it, and claim the
blessing by faith in Jesus Christ.

The Papists talk of purgatory after death : but I have been in one
in this life :

" ' Tis worse than death my OoJ to lova.
And not my Qod alone."

I never mean to bo in this purgatory again. WTiilo I live in the
enjoyment of this religion, I will invite others to partake of it. Yes,
I will preach this sanctification —

-While I've brcnth,

And when my voice is lost in denth,

Praise shall employ my nobler powers."

Sin has led many a man to destruction; bnt I never heard that

THE ADDRESS. 179

holiness ever injured any one. I had a man that lived with me; he
was a yery good workman, but determined to live in sin. He would
never come in to family prayer ; and it grieved me sadly, that any
man should live in my house who was such an enemy to godliness.
He was such a spendthrift and reprobate, that he had hardly any
clothes to his back, and was always in debt at the alehouses and
shoemakers. "Well, I thought, " this must come to an end ; " and 1
determined to part with him. While reasoning one day upon it, I
thought again — " How many years has God had patience with thee,
Sammy ? Why, five-and-twenty years ! " Then, I said to myself,
" I must have a bit more patience with this poor fellow, and try some
other means to bring about his conversion." Well, Sirs, I set a trap
for him, and baited it with faith and prayer. I got him persuaded to
go to a love-feast. The people wondered to see him there. He went
out of curiosity to hear what the friends had to say, and, it may be,
to make sport of them. But God found him out, and brouglit him into
great distress of soul. This ended in his conversion. God made a
bran new man of him; and he now finds that godliness has the pi'o-
mise of this life. He looks a hundred pounds better than he did.
He soon began to pay off his old debts, and now lives without
making fresh ones. Did sin ever do a man any good like this ? No.
It promises much; but never performs what it promises. The truth
is, it has nothing to give; for "the luages of sin is death." Every
sinner will shrink from the payment of those wages which he has
earned by a life of sin.

It is religion that makes good husbands, good wives, good
children, good masters, and good servants. It is the best thing a
man can have in this world, and it is what will fit him for heaven. I
feel such love to you, that I could take you in all my arms, and carry
you into Abraham's bosom. 0 that every person in this congrega-
tion may turn from his evil ways, and become a new creature ! May
" the very God of peace sanctify you wholly, and preserve you blame-
V« aa in body, soul, and spirit ! " Ameu.

180

HYMNS.

Seltcted by the tuhjecl of the Memoir, to be tutii/ at his /wfrai

HYMN" 1.

Aiy life's a shade ; my days

Apace to death decline :
My Lord is life ; he'll raise

My dust again, even mine.
Sweet truth to me ! I shall arise,
And with these eyes my Saviour sc*

The peaceful grave shall keep
Jly bones to that sweet day ;

I wake flora my long sleep.
And leave my bed of clay.

^'weet truth to me ! I shall arise,

And with these eyes my Savioiu' s-.*

My Lord his angels shall
Their golden trumpets sound ;

At whose most welcome call,
My grave shall bo unbound.

Sweet truth to me ! I shnll arise,

And with these eyes my Saviour sf*

I said sometimes, with tears,
"Ah me ! I'm loth to die : "

Lord, silence thou these fears ;
My life's with thoo on high.

Sweet truth to me ! I shall arise.

And with my eyes my Saviour see.

What means my trembling heart.
To be thus shy of death !'

My life and I shan't part,
Though I resign my breath.

Sweet truth to mo ! I shall arise,

And with these eyes my Saviour seoL

^

HTMN9.

Then welcome, harmless grave ;

By thee to heaven I go ;
My Lord, his death shall save

Me from the flames helow.
Sweet truth to me ! I shall arise,
And with these eyes my Saviour se«.

181

He's gone ! the spotless soul is fled,
And numbered with the peaceful deai.

To glorious bliss removed ;
Summoned to take his seat,
In mansions of celestial love.

And permanent delight.

Here aU his pains and sufEerings end,
Safe in the bosom of his friend,

His Saviour and his God :
His warfare's past, his time is o'er.
And he shall never suffer more.

From pain for ever free.

CHORUS.

He's landed in the aims of God,
And wash'd his robes in Jesu's blood.
And stands before the throne.

-/

GLOSSAEY.

Oftentimes pronounced

•••

offena.

Our

...

...

hower.

Church,

...

...

cherch, soinetr.-nes chirA.

Missionaries

...

...

Mishoners.

Eaten,

...

...

hetten.

Eat,

...

...

eight.

Societies, ...

...

...

sieties.

Would, ...

...

...

wood.

Open ...

...

...

hoppen.

People,

...

pepell.

Perfect,

..

...

parfit or parfeat, generally pur fit

Take,

...

...

tak.

Make,

...

mak.

Outpouring,

...

...

kowtpowering i exceedingly broad.

Gave,

...

• ..

gav.

Sown,

...

.-.

savm.

Soon,

...

.-.

$oen.

Where, ...

...

., .

whur, whor, imr.

Ordered ...

...

• ■•

auder'd.

Israel

Eesreh.

Should,

, ,.

...

sad.

Set,

,.

setten.

Who,

« *>

. .

fioe.

Mercy,

...

matey.

What,

M .

wat.

Enter,

...

.1 .

henter.

It,

...

.. .

hU

Us,

...

,,,

hus.

Awake,

toakken.

Metliodists,

.. .

Melterdisses, or Metherdi3$e$.

Methodist,

...

« .«

Metherdia.

Turned, ...

...

,,

tomed. .

Wet,

...

. .

vxet.

A ladder, ...

...

...

a stile, a stt*.

Foot,

...

...

foeL \

Fool,

...

...

foel. 1 divided nearly into two

School, ...

...

...

skoel I syllables.

Noon,

...

...

nocTi. /

Night, ...

...

...

neeL

Thus, agreoabl

0 to the

above, San:

luol, together with his less educated

neighliours, would

pray for the Lord to '

" toakketi " the sluuiboriug sinner.

/

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The Beginning of the Christian

Life. Sixth Thousand. i6mo. is.

Tl\e Programnie of Life. Fi/ih

Thousand. Demy i6mo. i*.

^1} the llcb. John Jt. f amforb.

Ciirist \r\ tl^e City : a Series of Meditatioi^s. Companion Volume to
' My Cross and Thine.' Crown 8vo. Red lines round page. Cloth, red
edges. 3^.

My Cross and Thine. Large Crown 8vo. Red lines round pages.
Ten full page Illustrations. Cloth, red edges. 3^. (>d.

Elias Power, of Ease in Zion. Twen-
tieth Thousand. Cm. 8vo. Seven-

Hugh /\xe, of Hephzibah. Crown
8vo. Six Page Illustrations, ts. f>d. ;
gilt edges, is.

Father Fervent. Sixth Thousand.
Crown 8vo. Eighteen Illustrations,
IS. td. ; gilt edges, 2s. 6d.

t\, WeeK of Life. Small Cm. 8vo.

With Frontispiece, cloth, 6d.

teen Illustrations, i.;. dd. ; gilt edges,
IS. 6d.

John Conscience, of l^ingseal.

Ninth Thousand. Crn. 8vo. Eigh-
teen Illustrations, if. (>d. \ gill
edges, 2 J. td.

The Cracked ltearttistor\e. Crn.

Bvo. Illus., 3j. ; gilt edges, at. 6d,

Anios Truelove. Crown Svo.

Illustrated, is. 6d.; gilt edges, 3S. td.

The Vicar of Berrybridge. Crn.

8vo. Thirty-seven Illustrations.
Eighth Thousand. Paper covers,
\s.\ cloth, IS. M. ; gilt edges, is. 6d,

The N|an with the White Hat ; or.

The Story of an Unknown Mission.
21 Illustrations. Twentieth Thou-
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cloth, ij. 6d. ; pill edges, 2s. (id.

Roger Wentwood's Bible. Crown
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gilt edges, or. 6d.

Purity arid Power. Crown 8vo.

Cloth, red edges, 3S. 6d.

Strange Life Stories. Numerous

Illustrations. Crown 8vo. is. td.

Farmer Read's Kingdom ; the

Story of One Poplar Farm.
Eighteen Illustrations. Crown 8vo.
IS. 6d.

The Little Wonjjan in Grey ; Scenes

and Incidents in HomeMissionWork.
Twenty-two Illustrations. Crown
8vo. as. 6d.

iJn (Ebclnn (Elififtt-C^irccn.

Mliss t^eyrick's Niece, Illustrated.

Crown 8vo. ax.

% Black Sheep.

Crown 8vo. ts.

Illustrated.

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